


Amor in Tempore: Tantum Tempus

by CheyF



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe, Being regular people, Coffee, Drama & Romance, Drinking, F/M, Falling In Love, Floor Sex, Getting to Know Each Other, Happy Ending, Meet the Family, Outdoor Sex, Shower Sex, Trauma, Wall Sex, Weather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 13:48:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 60,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11670336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheyF/pseuds/CheyF
Summary: A/U: What happens when she begrudgingly falls for the new guy? A story in the midwest in the early 1990s. the PG13 version can be found on ff.net. This version is significantly longer (a whole new chapter or two), with tweaks throughout, and rated E.





	1. Chapter 1

He let his head fall against the grip of the steering wheel, perspiration slick against his forehead, his hands clammy and shaking. 

His mind couldn’t settle on hopeless, angry, or devastated, but wavered between the three, pushing against his sternum with greasy hands until his lungs tried to squeeze into his throat. Eventually, he pushed the door open and dropped out of the driver’s seat, work boots thumping the tarry pavement. 

Chakotay shoved his key into the loose handle of the door, one he’d repeatedly fixed, but which insisted on defying him. One more thing in his shabby apartment and his shoddy life that made him just want to run away and give up on this mess. He threw his keys onto the table, the metal gouging into the smooth surface as it skittered with a jangling racket. 

The thin salmon colored slip, crumbled in his other fist, landed unsatisfactorily on the kitchen counter as he stripped off his pale blue uniform shirt. As the material rebounded off the wall into the laundry basket in the pantry, a large slice of paint drifted into the pile of blues from previous days.

Stripping down to his briefs by the time he got to the bathroom, he filled the sink with tepid water and dunked his head under the cloudy surface. Holding his breath until his lungs starved, he released a yell, raw and desperate, before he broke the surface, leaning his forehead against the cool porcelain and pulling the stopper. Half-lidded eyes watched the liquid swirl down the drain until only dirtied droplets cut paths around the dents and grooves.

His mind spun, irate with the very moments in his life leading to this point; he frustrated himself as he lingered. Every few months when he got laid off again and repeated the gruesome routine of faux grief in his shady little abode, he would carry on the next day and join the lines at the employment center in the morning. For some reason, it felt different this time. Ten years ago, he couldn’t have seen himself, sorry as he was, arriving here, desperate for more with no escape apparent. He mused that he was one of the better off, he at least had a small savings holed away in case he ever got the courage to leave or go back home.

College had done him no good. He’d been idyllic and proud when he’d gotten his degree and passed his certification. He’d gotten a job immediately teaching in a suburb of LA, but violence, violence like the riots now…that permeated everything, turned his world into a dark-edged truth. He was outraged as much as the next man or woman, but he didn’t see it all leading to any kind of progress. As a student of history, he believed that violence very rarely led to the kind of revolution they wanted, time and hard work would lead to progress instead. For now, as much as he wanted to be involved, like many, he kept roof over his head only just. Where would he find the time to advocate for his beliefs? He barely had time to sleep. But he couldn’t go back home, not then and not now. Even if home meant a salve to his wounded dreams.

He’d gotten stuck in the down-draft of recession and floundered, barely treading the surface of survival, with interspersed oases of stability that gave him hope, just to squander his resolutions for a better life before he could appreciate what might be in front of him. Eventually the school succumbed to outside forces, closing its doors and leaving him shocked and lost. His friends and mentors were long dispersed and in their chosen careers, and here he was a former high school teacher, former aerospace assemblyman, former odd-jobs-to-get-fed pity-case.

No more.

He was done.

This time it would work out.

He’d do what he’d have to, and he’d get there. 

By God.

He didn’t care what it was that would make his dream real.  
Nor did he know what he wanted any more.  
But, he knew that this wasn’t it.  
Something had to give. 

 

Weeks later, despite his best efforts, he found himself in the cycle he loathed all the same. Leaving the worksite, Chakotay confirmed that he was meeting Murry and the others at the pub once they collected their daily pay from the office and took groceries home to their families for dinner. Some days he smirked, glad that he could put away a bit since he didn’t have anyone depending on him and he could survive on packaged pasta and condensed soup indefinitely. For what, he didn’t know, but every day, he came early to the employment office and checked with his counselor, Pam, about permanent postings, anywhere but here, that might interest him. Honestly, when Murry’s girl had recommended the agency, he’d been suspicious of the shining statistics that boasted “Fast Employment, in the Career for You!” 

Most days, it meant a steady stint in manual labor until something long-term popped up in their system for their clients. More often than not, it took a few months before the perfect fit came along, but that was pretty good in the current financial climate. Until then, he coached himself from depression, through every aching muscle and sunburn as he worked wherever they put him for the day. At least someone was doing something for folks like him, and Pam really seemed like she wanted him to succeed. She had an inordinate amount of faith in his abilities. 

Chakotay parked in front of his building and cut the engine. He didn’t bother rolling the windows back up, there wasn’t anything to steal, and he didn’t want to get into an oven when he came back out. 

Running his hands through his cropped raven hair, his fingers came back gritty, but relatively clean. He judged a shower could wait until he got back in for the night, otherwise he’d just sweat and get caked in grime again. Brushing his teeth seemed prudent though, as did a fresh set of clothes. Fresher, rather. He’d been short of quarters for two weeks and too busy to go to the corner to trade in for some. 

He looked around, disgusted at the state of his apartment. Hopefully his break would come soon so he could just ditch the mess and drive off into the sunset with whatever he could fit in the truck.

His head smacked into the low door frame of the hall closet as he reached for a fresh wash-cloth so he could clean his ears and fingernails. Every damn place. There always had to be something he could slam his forehead on in every building he’d lived in. Apparently, he was freakishly tall compared to these stunted city architects. He groaned and checked the bathroom mirror for any marks, dark eyes darting to the reddened line above his brow. By most standards, he wasn’t too tall, everyone else was just overly short. Everyone in his family was fairly consistent in size; wide but lithe frames, even most of the women were at least 5’8 and sturdily built. It served them well at home, where his cousins and siblings worked in some incarnation of the family business, tending orchards and occasionally manning a fishing boat off the coast. Chakotay had to be different though, and went to the land of the Lilliputians where he’d gotten his education and slid down a rabbit hole.

Shrugging broad shoulders into a clean button-up, he reapplied deodorant and grabbed a handful of pocket change and crumpled bills from the bowl by his couch to fund his pints for the evening. He still had Saturdays to look forward to; the end of the workweek heralding his one concession: a meal and drinks with the rotating roster of temp workers he called friends.

 

Today everything changed. Pam had come through. She’d submitted his credentials to a job and they’d requested an interview over the phone. After an hour in the call, he was optimistic. They’d gushed about his credentials and experience. There was only one problem. His new employer (he hoped) couldn’t pay for his moving expenses, but they could advance his salary upon signature of his contract to soften the blow. It was as good a deal as he’d get. He would have liked a sign-on bonus, but his last severance from the factory wasn’t completely gone. Between that and the rest of his pithy savings, he could probably scrounge enough for a modest down payment on somewhere to live, even if it wasn’t luxurious. It wouldn’t be here, that’s all that really mattered.


	2. Chapter 2

His sweat glued his fingers together, heavy on the bare mattress. Eyes squeezed shut against the mid-morning glare of the sun, Chakotay groaned as he slowly stretched his aching body. 

Finally, he rolled to his back, smacked his dry lips, and took a deep breath. The air, hot and humid already, coated his lungs, thick in his chest. He opened his eyes and looked at his watch, nearly hitting himself in the face with his hand.

“Shit!”

It was 11:30 and he had to be at the school by noon. Just then, he caught a whiff of himself and cringed. Gathering his wits, the man rolled and caught himself on his knees on the creaky wooden floor. 

He dug into one of the open boxes in the corner to find some soap and, if he was lucky, maybe toothpaste. Yes! Soap and a toothbrush and mouthwash. He could work with that.  
Turning on the fan in the barren bedroom, he dropped his shorts and padded to the tiny bathroom, turning on the shower.

He hissed as the chilly water stung his chest and cooled his face. He ran his soapy hands quickly over his skin, careful of the bruises and blisters of the previous day. Kansas summers were the most brutal in August, especially if one was moving into a house with a broken air conditioner. 

He was finally chilled and clean. Far from settled, he was already optimistic that he could make a lovely home here. The small town had only a few thousand people, and they had all been very warm and helpful so far. He’d already met the owner of the pie shop down the street, Gretchen, who eyed him with a wicked grin and plied him with samples of desserts as she prodded him for information. He was the new blood in town. She was a kind but feisty widow with heavenly pies. He smiled to himself, thinking of her bold hug, welcoming him to town and inviting him back to the shop, soon.

His young neighbor helped him get his furniture in the house in record time, and he offered Chakotay iced-tea during the hottest afternoon hours. From across the street, Joe and his wife welcomed him to the neighborhood with cookies last night as well. 

The street wasn’t constantly filled with backfiring engines, loud teens, and police and fire personnel. His home wasn’t dangling over the line of condemnation, and he didn’t feel hopeless for the first time he could remember in recent history. This was a huge change from his time in the city, but it was exactly what he needed. He was getting older and found he was ready to put down roots of his own. His mother wasn’t happy he lived so far, but she knew he was doing what was right for his soul.

He’d planned to walk to the school, but he had spent too much time searching for presentable clothes. His fingers deftly buttoned up his shirt as he slipped on black loafers and hurried out the door to a dusty, white Chevy.

 

The worn brick building stood much bigger than he’d expected. The athletics fields looked like they needed too much work. Chakotay pulled to the back of the building and parked next to the motorcycle on the far end of the teachers’ lot. Wind buffeted the door and swung it hard against its hinges, pulling him clumsily from the cab.  
He walked to the nearest doors, gravel crunching and shifting beneath his feet. He tugged at the handle, finding it locked. With every step, it felt like he had to peel his shoes from the hot ground, leaving miniscule traces of melted rubber behind in his wake. The tar snakes from the parking lot gave as much as they took, he was sure the substance coated his soles, making his steps slick along the smoother planes of the pavement. By the time he got to the main doors he was sweating again, the loose shirt and billowing wind did little to keep him cool in the torrid sun. 

Finding the doors unlocked this time, he went into the dim hallway looking for the principal. To his right, a bank of windows revealed the darkened office, the solitary desk coated in a thin layer of dust, but neat. Chakotay checked his watch. He was two minutes late. Hopefully, his new boss wouldn’t notice. Ahead of him, a dark open space sprawled into tall lines of lockers, the entrance to the gym and wide hallways to the left and right leading to what he presumed was a majority of the classrooms. For a moment he wondered why the school seemed so abandoned, then he listened closely and detected sounds coming from every direction, muted by walls and doors, but signifying activity throughout the building. The entire place seemed daunting, but he convinced himself it was only because it remained unlit, the custodian doing everything he could to keep the interior cool.  
Realistically, he knew he wasn’t disconcerted with the actual appearance of the high school, but the jitters deep in his stomach suggested he was anxious, as anyone is, to jump into his new job. Deep down, he wasn’t sure if he was everything they thought he was. Sure, he had the credentials. Yes, he had experience and a passion that called him to teaching. No, he wasn’t sure he wasn’t entirely a fraud. He wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t faking everything and instead he was really a man doomed to the destiny of scraping through with manual labor masquerading as more than he ever could be. 

He hoped the school reflected the community’s welcoming atmosphere. Maybe he could be enough, if only this time. He was due for a break in the shit-show. He’d paid his part in the cycle of climbing the ladder. 

This time, he told himself, I will be enough, even if I have to prove it to them before I can prove it to myself. 

No rocky start. No self-doubt. No more nonsense was going to hold him back. He resolved to excel here more than he had anywhere before. This opportunity, he knew, had to be the one he’d been dreaming of, whether he knew it or not. He cemented his nerves and prepared himself for grinding his way into success, no matter what it took. Perhaps, if this was his true calling, it would be less daunting that he anticipated. 

A lanky, fair-haired man came around the corner and nearly ran into him. The stranger looked up from his notebook. Blue eyes and a beaming smile shocked Chakotay from his thoughts. He shot out his hand to the tottering man.

“Hi…um, I’m Chakotay Walker, the new…”

“History teacher! Yes! I’m Tom Paris, Biology.” 

He seemed charmingly excitable, though a bit boyish. Chakotay thought the man might only be in his mid-twenties. 

“I’m supposed to meet Mr. Tuvok, but I’m afraid I don’t know where I need to go.” Chakotay swept his gaze around the cavernous quad.

The school was situated in a strange chevron shape, the halls converging in the wide communal area past the office where he’d entered from the front.

“Oh, don’t worry. Ray is still in a meeting with the superintendent. He should be done soon. I’ll show you to his office. Normally, he is a stickler about timeliness and such, but you lucked out today.” Tom led him around the corner and behind a bank of the sickly blue lockers. 

“Ray’s office is back here, but you passed the main office on your way in. The admin assistant will be back in tomorrow. If you’d like, I can give you the nickel tour once you’re done with the boss.”

“That’d be great.” Chakotay shifted his weight, standing awkwardly outside the plain office door. He could hear arguing through the frosted glass. 

“I’m in the classroom at the far end of the east wing. Just drop by when you’re ready.” Tom headed down the hall, leaving Chakotay to himself to wait.

He tried not to eaves drop, but the heated conversation was hard to avoid in the quiet quad. Staccato exclamations seemingly bounced off the bare walls.  
A muffled woman’s voice, flustered, insisted: “But we need more materials in the lab. I don’t expect anything huge, but at least a few more hot plates! If the football team…”

“Miss Janeway, the football team brings in their own money for those uniforms. They fundraise. They sell tickets to games. Science does not. The current materials and facilities meet and exceed the DOE requirements.”

“I don’t care!” A huff followed, then an exaggerated sigh. “These kids need a STEM education if they ever hope to be successful. Sports are useful, as are the arts, but how many of those boys will be able to make a career of it?”

“They have more scholarship opportunities,” the deep baritone continued, “I’m done with this discussion. You can come to the next school board meeting or talk to the PTA about funding.”

She was silent, but he had a feeling she was only defeated for the moment. 

Chakotay heard chairs scrape as the people in the office murmured their good-byes. He stepped back as the door swung open and a tall, greying man in a rumpled suit exited.

The man nodded to Chakotay and left, the door closing behind him. Quieter voices came from the office now as another male voice softly admonished Miss Janeway. She persisted for a moment, but the argument was moot. The principal agreed with her, but reminded her that it was not in their control. The PTA would be her best option. They could also check storage again, in case they missed the supplies there. She sighed in resignation then mumbled her goodbye.

A dark man with a dour expression opened the door. Principal Tuvok’s tanned face creased harshly when he smiled and offered a hand in greeting.  
“Mr. Walker, I apologize for the delay. Thank you for your patience.”

A woman, maybe a couple years younger than Chakotay met his eyes briefly, the grey flecked cobalt of her stare targeting him, brief and fiery. Her shoulders hunched when she shifted the papers into one of her arms, the disarray somehow contained from exploding onto the floor. She excused herself and hurried down the west hall, her eyes down and fists clinched. 

“Shall we?” Mr. Tuvok gestured to the small conference table in his Spartan office.

 

After all the hiring paperwork was finished, the severe man showed Chakotay to what was to be his classroom. He wasn’t surprised to find a bare room with a beaten-up desk in the back next to the storage closet. The student chairs, at least four kinds, were upturned on grubby desks. Sunlight streamed in, washing-out all color from the wooden sills and shelves. 

There was a lot of work to do, but first he’d have to look around the school. He bade Principal Tuvok a good afternoon and set out to the other end of the building. He headed down the hallway towards the biology lab to find Tom. The door stood half open, classical music drifting softly from a crackling speaker on an ancient tape player that doubled as a door-stop. 

Chakotay didn’t figure Tom for a classics guy, but hey, people could be shocking in strange ways. He knocked on the door jamb and pushed the door open.  
“Tom? If you aren’t busy…” He heard glass shatter in the back of the room around the corner and a high-pitched yelp swiftly followed.

“Damn!” She growled.

His head shot up and he looked towards the sound to see not-Tom.

The woman that had been in the office earlier was precariously perched atop a wobbling desk, clipboard and pencil in hand, mournfully staring at the broken beaker on the floor. Her other hand gripped, white-knuckled to the edge of one of the shelves in front of her.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He offered a shy smile.

“You didn’t,” she grunted. Then she climbed down from her high spot, careful of the glass, and shuffled to him where he’d been glued to the threshold. 

“Well, maybe a bit. I’m sorry for my mood. I’m just a bit frustrated today.” She offered her hand to him and her features softened, her smooth lips curling up a bit into a lopsided smile. 

“I’m Kathryn Janeway.” Her name slithered on her breath, ending in a sigh.

He smiled in return, taking her hand in his and shaking briefly before she pulled away and turned towards the closet.

“I’m Chakotay…”

“Yes, the new coach. I know.”

“If you give me just a second, I’ll show you to Tom’s room. He mentioned he was going to show you around.” Her tone was short again.   
Apparently, he hadn’t made the best of impressions. She pulled a broom and dust pan from the closet and started cleaning up the glass.

“Oh, I can get that…” He made to go help her. “It’s the least I can do after startling you. And, uh, depriving you of lab equipment.”  
He hoped he might lighten the growing tension. 

She was silent for a moment and he thought he may have misjudged the room. She sighed heavily and turned back to him, her shoulders slumped.

“It’s not your fault coach. The decisions were made before you were even hired. I’m sorry I’ve taken it out on you.”

She smiled at him then, her eyes sparkling in genuine apology. He noted, though, that she continued to call him coach rather than his given name, as he’d introduced himself. In fact, the moniker seemed to leave a bad taste on her tongue. She sighed softly again and turned to gather the glass, crouching with her back to him. 

Her loose blouse rode up a bit at her back and Chakotay saw dimples on either side of her spine, interrupting the pale expanse of her narrow hips and back. He turned away, embarrassed to have lingered on her figure as she worked, unaware. Perhaps it had been a bit too long if he was eyeing up the first single woman his age he’d met in town. 

His gaze wandered to her messy desk, where three coffee cups in various states of fill held down stacks of syllabi and lab inventory sheets like those on her clipboard. 

The glass crashed as she dumped it into the trash bin and leaned the broom against a shelf. She set the papers she’d been filling out on her chair and picked up the fullest coffee mug. She took a quick gulp and grimaced, clunking the mug of cold caffeine onto the desk with disgust. 

“Shall we go? Have you seen your room yet?” She approached him.

“Yes, on both accounts.”

She brushed past, moving towards the door and the hall. She turned for only a moment to make sure he was following. 

He didn’t pay much attention to his surroundings as she led him across the school. Apparently, he’d gotten completely turned around. He took the time in transit to let his mind wander back to her. He took a moment to actually look at her as she walked.

She wore thick-soled strappy sandals and loose faded jeans that were low on her slim frame. Her airy lavender blouse was half tucked into her pants, pulled free from the back. Chalk marks and dust smeared across one of her shoulders and down one arm. Her hair brushed her collar, wet at the nape from the unbridled heat in the stifling school. Most of her warm copper hair was caught in a French braid and piled atop the crown of her head.

He noted that she was fairly petite, a head shorter than he and half his weight, if that, dripping wet. She more than made up for her stature with what he’d seen of her personality though. He looked down to the floor, hiding a lingering smirk. 

“Hey, Chakotay! Already bothering the wildlife, I see.” Tom greeted them from his position by the door where he had been working on his own classroom inventory of the lab supplies.

“Tom!” She blanched a bit at his reference.

“Katie, you can’t blame me when it’s true. Though he seems relatively unscathed.”

Tom stepped down from the chair and put his arm around Kathryn’s shoulders as he looked Chakotay over as if checking for injuries.

“She must like you, big guy. That or you’re incredibly resilient.”

She frowned then moved back to the door.

“Well, I’ll leave you gentlemen to it.” And she was gone.

Tom chuckled and patted the new teacher on the back.

“Don’t take her too seriously. She gets like this at the beginning of the year. She’s really not that tense all the time, but my father infuriates her sometimes.”

Chakotay was puzzled. Were they an item? He had called her Katie. Tom cut his thoughts off, explaining away his worry. Tom’s father was the superintendent for the rural district. 

The superintendent which was especially infuriating because he was Kathryn’s uncle, making Tom her cousin.

“Are you ready for the grand tour then, Chakotay?”

“Lead on.”


	3. Chapter 3

A few hours later, Chakotay found himself back at his new house. New was definitely a relative term. It needed work, but it was his. Just the concept of ownership of this magnitude was novel in his adult life, so whether it was ramshackle or mansion, he was proud to say he had something of his own. His goal was to get his bedroom settled before bed. The HVAC company would be there in the early evening, so he’d at least have a cool and comfortable night if they managed to get the air working. 

Snapping the metal lengths together, he secured the arms of his bed frame into place, maneuvering the head to the middle of the far wall under the window. He wiped the mattress down and heaved it onto the frame, then dumped the bedding out of its bag and sorted the sheets from the bundle. As he smoothed the sheets at the corners, his mind wandered through the last twenty-four hours, reviewing what he wanted to do with his new classroom, the new town, and all of the new people he’d met. 

 

Once his clothes were all tucked into the closet and the antique chest of drawers beneath one of the windows, he moved on to the bathroom in the hope he might find the rest of his toiletries and offer a more presentable human being in the morning.

The repair company rapped on the door just as he finished putting everything in the medicine cabinet. When they were inside and working on the broken unit, Chakotay started in on unpacking the kitchen, his energy fast dissolving. He realized as much as he would like a home-cooked meal, he couldn’t cook without groceries. All he had in his cupboard was a box of tea bags.

A loud click broke the thick, still air, then a musty breeze from the vents made him shiver as his skin chilled. The two men from HVAC came in from the back yard, their tools draped over their shoulders. He offered them some cool water and settled the invoice quickly. They left, chatting as they went.

Chakotay checked the time, noting it was much later than he thought. In agreement, his stomach rumbled. He checked the thermostat, grabbed his keys, and set out to hunt for food. After two blocks, he was downtown, but most of the buildings were dark and quiet. Unfortunately, everything in town tended to close earlier than the businesses he was used to frequenting in the city. Approaching the one lighted entrance, he walked into a shabby little bar. 

A single pool table and an electric jukebox filled most of the open space. Three tables lined the inside wall and a long bar created a shallow horseshoe in the back.

Three younger men sat at a fourth table by the window, and a few people, there on their own, sat along the bar, spaced almost perfectly to allow the most distance possible between them. Chakotay took a chance and sat by a bearded man in a leather jacket drinking what looked like his fifth can of cheap beer.

“What’ll you have?” The old woman behind the bar approached him, setting a napkin on the wood surface in front of him, awaiting his order.

“Do you serve food here?” He asked hopefully.

“I have bags of chips for two quarters, or peanuts for free.” She gestured to the man next to him, and the bowl of shells on the bar by his drink.

“Is there anywhere close that serves food at this hour?”

“Only think open past six on a week night is the truck stop.” She seemed disappointed in the lack of options too. “Most of the town stays open ‘till eight on the weekends, though, so it isn’t as bad.”

She filled a glass with water and put it in front of him while he considered the menu board above the bar.

“How about a shot of whatever’s your favorite?” He shrugged.

“Ladies choice it is,” she proclaimed. “You new to town, or just visiting?”

“I just got here yesterday. Hopefully I’ll be here for a while.” He watched her get the drink. “And a bag of chips, please.” 

“Free for you today, hon.” She slid the golden liquid and snack to him.

What was it with every woman over 50 in this town being a flirt? Maybe this woman was in cahoots with the woman in the pie shop across the street. He shook his head and laughed to himself as he considered the impact of a spinster population on his social life. If it led to free drinks and pie, he might have to put up with it. He’d sacrifice himself for the greater good, even if that sacrifice was enjoyable. He could give as good as he got and it had provided quite a few drinks over the years.

 

Waking up between cool sheets was the most wonderful sensation. He rolled from his back and buried his hands beneath his pillow, spending the minutes before his early alarm simply relishing the fresh, smooth feel of his soft bed. The sun prickled at his skin, stretching across his back and warming his nape as it broke the horizon and brought the world from slumber. 

The ache of his muscles was only a dull twinge as he stretched, straining to wake his limbs. It didn’t seem like he could stretch quite enough to satisfy all his limbs. Chakotay let out a long, slow breath, then resolved to get out of bed. It wouldn’t do for him to make a habit of being late to work. 

Languidly, he planted his feet on the floorboards and reached for his toes, his lower back creaking audibly as he moved. Grabbing a shirt from the basket on the chair by one of the windows, he went to the kitchen, bare feet slapping the floor. He put the kettle on the stove and raided his stash of tea. Out of habit, he opened the refrigerator in search of breakfast, belatedly realizing he still had no groceries to speak of.

Checking the time, looking at the clock three times before the hour registered, he headed back to the en suite bathroom to perform his ablutions, relieved that he could get ready properly. 

Finally shaved and feeling more himself, he determined he might as well make an early start of it. He filled a travel mug with hot water from the kettle and tossed in a tea bag to steep while he walked to the school. 

 

Chakotay used the commute as an opportunity to take in his new neighborhood as it stirred to life in the tolerably warm morning. Dust swirled in tiny funnels in the cul-de-sac. 

Weeds spotted the uneven, cracked sidewalks. Pleasant groups of trees hugged porches and supported swings and suspended benches. Brightly colored toys neatly nestled in some bushes, in various degrees of sun-faded glory. The bituminous pavement glimmered in the morning light, sending light bouncing into his eyes and creating an illusion of movement over the road’s surface.

Down the block a baby wailed, waking a whole house, but cooed quickly to sleep by her mother. This is what he’d come here for. Moments of complete silence and serenity, spotted with bold life and peace. The unmoving landscape offered a solace from the turbulence of an otherwise hectic world. Initially, he’d been wary of moving so far from everything that was familiar. It was becoming increasingly clear that this place was just what he needed. 

Change wasn’t always easy for him, but the entire process over the last month: getting the job, driving across half the country, and jumping right back into teaching, was much easier than he’d anticipated. Once the weight of dread lifted from his over-worked and under-paid shoulders, he breathed easier. Everything else practically fell into place with very little input from him. When was the last time he’d walked somewhere he was going without being accosted by decrepit structures and disrespectful teens?  
A skittering squirrel sped across his path, chirping angrily at another squirrel who gave chase. He had to stop and wait for them to clear the way as they crossed his path repeatedly before disappearing in a patch of decorative bushes. Reverie broken, Chakotay crossed the street to the school. 

Digging in his satchel for his keys, he let himself in and found his classroom again. The tour the previous afternoon had been quite thorough and he could now make sense of the odd layout of the hallways. 

 

By lunch time, Chakotay’s classroom was reorganized and tidied. The U.S. and World History books were inventoried and the maps sorted. The rickety desks had been dusted inside and out, and he was just about finished tightening the bolts on every piece of furniture he could reach. 

“Knock, knock!” A hulking man with pitch-colored hair and oily irises stood at the open door. 

Chakotay rose from his crouch and wiped his hands on his jeans.

“Hey man, I’m Coach Ayala, but you can call me Mike. I hear you and I are going to be great buddies!”

Mike met Chakotay halfway into the room and briskly shook his hand.

“Yeah. Chakotay.” He returned the handshake. “I was about to get a bite then meet up with you to check out the facilities.”

“Well, why don’t you come to lunch with us so we can all get properly acquainted, then you can finish inventory with me. We’re headed to Chell’s, this great hole-in-the-wall Mexican place just a short walk down the road. 

Chakotay nodded his assent. “That sounds great. I need to get these tools back to the custodial closet really quick, then I’ll join you.”

“We’re meeting in the back lot in ten.” With that, Mike slapped the door jamb and disappeared down the hall.

Minutes later, Chakotay found himself on the loading dock seeking shade as he took in the unending flat landscape and the golden fields that went as far as he could see, shimmering in the sun. 

“School hasn’t even started yet and you already have that glazed look. Boy, are you in for it.” Tom sat beside him on the grooved concrete, legs dangling into the truck bay.

“Ah, no. I think the heat is scrambling my grey matter.”

“This is the worst of it. In a couple weeks, it’ll be better. Until then, welcome to purgatory.” Tom chuckled.

The heavy door whined on its hinges as Kathryn and two other women strolled out, deep in conversation. Tom hopped onto his feet and met the ladies at the stairs, pulling the darker-haired of the women aside and giving her a quick peck on the cheek. She smiled and mumbled into his ear before rejoining her friends as they headed for the road. Once Mike joined the men, another stranger at his side, they all followed the group down the street towards downtown. 

Chakotay learned that Mike’s friend was Harry Kim, the music teacher. The man seemed quite young, but very bright. It was his second year teaching, right out of college. The two women with Kathryn were Sam and Lanna, the English and Spanish teachers respectively. Sam was a plain-featured blonde woman about Kathryn’s age, but a little taller and maybe twenty pounds heavier. Lanna, Tom’s girlfriend, had very angular features, a caramel-colored complexion, and a pronounced line of raised scarring along her forehead where she’d been bitten by a dog as a child. She was younger than the other two, but she was only a couple inches shorter than her boyfriend, with curves for days.   
After a ten-minute jaunt, they came to a dilapidated building that smelled heavenly. Despite its outside appearances, the inside was clean and welcoming. Orange, bright pink, and green paint coated the walls, and several box fans placed strategically about kept the air moving in front of the swamp cooler by one of the windows. 

The cook sang along with the static-filled radio station to a rendition of “Buenos Amigos” as a stout woman in an ill-fitting apron met them at the counter and took their lunch orders.

They pushed a couple of tables together and crowded in together. Tom and Lanna were practically in each other’s laps as Tom talked to Harry, and Lanna gave her undivided attention to Sam and her stories about her daughter, Naomi, who’d been born in the spring. It left Mike, Kathryn, and Chakotay on the other side of the table engaging in small talk.

Kathryn just sipped her water, occasionally stealing a glance at Chakotay beside her as he leant half an ear to Mike and his plans for the afternoon once they got back to the building.

She seemed completely different than the day before. At first, she avoided his gaze, overtly interested in pushing the ice cubes about in her glass. Occasionally, she added a comment to one of the conversations. Otherwise, he watched her trace patterns in the condensation pooled on the table when she moved her water over a few inches. Intermittently, she’d look up and catch his eyes as if apologizing for the gregariousness of the bunch, quickly scanning the room then focusing on the table or a menu.  
When the fragrant fare arrived, they all tucked in, silence descending as they ate. He’d gotten used to the street tacos from the trucks that came by the work sites, so the heartier Americanized plates surprised him. The foam platter in front of him had enough food for two meals. Creamy beans filled one of the portioned sections of the tray. Heaped rice filled another square. In the largest part of his plate, three tacos brimming with every filling imaginable, fanned out to fill the rest of the space. He’d have to remember to order for when he came back. He had a tough time not eating until he was uncomfortable, as he hadn’t had a real sit-down meal for days. Even if it closed as early as everything else, he knew he wanted to keep this spot in mind when he didn’t want to cook. 

 

The afternoon was a grueling affair and Chakotay was again feeling the strain of abused muscles. He had a sense of accomplishment at the day’s achievements. His office was organized and the furniture arranged. All the equipment and the items in need of repair were set aside for work the next day. His classroom was up to spec, and he planned to bring in posters and additional materials from home to finish giving it an individualized touch. He didn’t have much left from his last room, but a small box had stayed with him in the back of a closet in hopes he might use it again. 

Most of the staff was only coming in the next morning for a half day, then finishing their materials prep at home over the long weekend. They would get their class rosters in their meeting with Mr. Tuvok first thing in the morning as well. 

Mike, helmet in hand, caught Chakotay on the way out of the building, and invited him out for the evening. This time Chakotay bowed out in favor of a grocery run and an early, uneventful night in to get some rest and finish unpacking his classroom supplies. He still needed to sort through everything, as it had been a few years since he’d sifted through the materials. 

As Mike rumbled off on his old shovelhead, Chakotay realized too late that he still had no idea where the nearest market was. In his exploratory drives through town, he hadn’t seen much besides the expansive truck stop along the highway. Luckily, he spotted Lanna headed out as well and inquired as to his options.

“Oh, there isn’t much in town, but if you head 15 minutes east, there’s a supermarket in Garden City. Off the highway there’s a Dillon’s and a Wal-Mart. Whichever you like best, though neither is open very late.”

She stopped for a moment considering any other suggestions she might have as he walked with her to her car.

“The Wal-Mart might have some Cougar gear if you’re into school spirit.”

She unlocked the driver’s door.

“Just get the red Cougar stuff, not the purple Wildcat.” She paused, smiling at him.

“Would you like a lift home? It’s still hot as hell for a walk.”

“Oh, sure. Thanks.” He returned her smile appreciatively. 

She leaned over and unlocked the passenger side door.

Lanna drove like a mad woman. He’d have to file that away for the future. She did admit to being quite mechanically inclined though. She did all the work on her own car and offered her services, should he need them.

“The best thing to come out of the tenuous relationship with my military father,” she’d noted.

 

He took stock of his grocery bounty, happy with the results and excited for dinner. He put together a cobb salad and baked a fresh loaf of bread. For good measure, he also threw together a pan of peanut butter brownies to share with his coworkers in the morning. It never hurt to soften new coworkers with baked goods. He especially hoped to dispel any hard feelings Kathryn might still have towards him as well.

Why did his mind keep going back to the diminutive science teacher? She was beautiful, he admitted. Breathtaking really. But he wasn’t always very concerned with what a person looked like on the outside. Underneath, something tempestuous bubbled in contrast to her unobtrusive exterior. It was nothing as simple as her conflict over the funding distribution within the district. Something dark lurked and tarnished her deep down. She intrigued him beyond anyone he’d met before. It drew him to her. Her complexity and that stormy undertone set her apart from the others at the school, in fact from most of the people in the town. 

She needed brownies. He could do that. He smiled to himself and happily hummed as he finished settling the few boxes left around the house. He noted the general lack of furniture and resolved to furnish the house better with his next few pay checks.


	4. Chapter 4

By Thursday, the whirlwind of the first week of school was taking its toll. As the students filed out after last period, Chakotay hurried to his office to lock up his things and change before practice. The heat, still unrelenting, drained his energy more than he’d expected when he first experienced it. It sapped his stamina. He felt old. Mike reminded him that the beginning of the season, especially in a new, hotter climate was always a bit rough. Chakotay wasn’t on the coast anymore, it was painfully obvious. He knew it would get better though, and climate wasn’t what he’d moved here for. 

The kids were great, he mused thoughtfully. The boys on the team were hard workers, eager to run drills, and they’d even volunteered to help with some of the field clean-up he had planned and some of the repairs to the fences and equipment.

 

At the end of the first week, an hour before the first bell, the school already bustled vibrantly. Thankfully, the air conditioning units got turned on once school started. It made the school an appealing oasis. 

Chakotay was overjoyed that it was Friday. His students were some of the most devoted he’d had a chance to work with so far. He enjoyed the small class sizes and his colleagues immensely. The kids cared for their community, though he saw some of himself in the boredom and pent up energy that came with the stagnancy of a small town, creating teens who needed outlets. It gave the boys what they needed to play hard at practice every afternoon. He felt good getting into teaching again. He’d been away far too long, clogged in the machine of the corporate automaton. He’d lost himself, and he was happy that just two weeks into his new start, he felt more belonging than he had for a decade.

Chakotay went to the teacher work room and started a pot of coffee brewing. Perhaps he’d get a cup this morning. He never seemed to get to it fast enough.

Quickly he went to his room to grab a copy of the study guides for the weekend homework. He’d forgotten to make the copies before leaving at the end of the day yesterday, but the Xerox machine was clear of any other jobs now, so he took the opportunity readily.

In his haste, Chakotay dropped his stack of papers as he reached for the handle of the workroom door. When he crouched down, the door swung open, sending him sprawling back onto his rear, sputtering in surprise.

“Umpfh,” he grunted.

His eyes went wide as he saw the catastrophe coming, only an instant before it happened. 

The all-too-often-invading-his-thoughts physical sciences teacher that he’d been strategically avoiding most of the week, had been backing through the door, hands full with a huge mug of contraband coffee held to her lips and an armful of papers and books. As the door rocketed open, it catalyzed the events now happening in slow motion. Chakotay watched from his undignified position on the carpet as her heels hit the back of his feet at an odd angle and she stumbled for a horrifying moment, almost gaining her balance before flailing and tumbling backwards on top of him, books exploding in morbid glory in every direction. The fresh coffee, mug and all, hung suspended for a moment, her thumb hooked in the handle, before splashing everywhere, clinging to the entirety of her blouse, wetting her hair, and scalding her arms and neck. Some of the burning liquid made it to Chakotay’s hands as he tried to catch her and preserve a modicum of her dignity, and his.

She squeaked as she tripped. 

She gasped as her limbs tangled with his and the wind was knocked from her, her head cracking against his chin.

“Mother fu.. of all that is good!” She shrieked, correcting her foul language before it escaped.

“Miss Janeway!” Heavy footsteps approached as Gerron, one of the varsity football players, rushed to them, holding out his hand to help Kathryn up. 

After a few unsuccessful and awkward moments, Chakotay pushed her up, pulling his hands from her hips as soon as his could.

Gerron lent him a hand and bent to start gathering up the mess of materials littering the floor around them. 

Kathryn wiped her hands on her pants and pinched the material of her blouse away from her chest, breathing shallowly against the burning liquid. Her other hand went to the back of her head to rub at the developing knot. She glared angrily in his direction, eye’s rolling to the ceiling as Chakotay hurriedly apologized.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry!” He took the dripping pile from the student standing awestruck, eyes nervously averting his gaze from the nearly transparent shirt on his teacher.

“Thank you, Gerron. I’ll see you in class.” Chakotay took pity on the boy, dismissing him. 

He opened the workroom door again and, his hand hovering over the small of her back, led her into the empty room. He put his cargo, turning to inky mush, on the counter and pulled off his over shirt, handing it to her.

“Here, um, use this. I’ll go grab one of the shirts from the office for you.” He remembered a couple sets of clothes in the nurse’s office for accidents and dress code violations. He would grab a few things close to her size.

“Thank you. I’m sorry. As well I mean. I should watch where I’m going.” Her expression reflected only mild annoyance now. She settled his button-up on her shoulders and pulled it around her tightly.

She set to sorting the ruined papers and he heard her huff in frustration before a wet plop hit the empty trash can as he left. The whole soggy mess was deemed a loss as the door closed and blocked out an impressive string of obscenities.

When he got back with the shirts he could find, she was running a paper towel under the faucet and wiping the coffee from angry, reddened skin.

“A terrific way to start off a Friday, huh?” He accidently startled her again. She was entirely too jumpy.

“Uh, give me a second and you can have your shirt back.” She held her hand out and he gave her the clothes.

“There wasn’t much in the bin. Not much selection, but they’re clean.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” She went through the door at the other end of the room into the faculty restroom. He heard the lock snick into place and water turn on.

Chakotay went back to his room to grab the other prints of the study guides to copy.

Mike and Sam were in the workroom chatting when he got back. They were oblivious to the drama of the morning until Kathryn emerged from the bathroom in a loose black t-shirt with a rainbow-neon blocked design across the chest. Apparently, it was preferable to the faded, yellow monstrosity covered in cartoon turtles.

She handed him his neatly folded shirt and gathered her books and mug. She smiled as she moved past him, a slight quirk of her lips really, but it was better than angry. He’d probably done enough to deserve angry already today. Maybe, someday, he’d manage to not seem like an ass. Today was not that day. Maybe she was just easily annoyed and he was good at everything that rubbed her the wrong way.

Mike raised his eyebrows, probing Chakotay for an explanation.

“Well then, settling in just fine I see.” The man laughed.

“No, it’s not like that, we just had an accident.” He focused on his copies.

“It sure seems like it.” Ayala winked then turned back to his conversation with Sam.

Once he was back in his classroom, he tucked in his white t-shirt and put his button-up back on. His face warmed when he realized he now smelled faintly floral. Perhaps a mixture of lavender…and coffee with a touch of vanilla. He smelled like his coffee thief.

 

He was on his way to Kathryn’s room after school to check on her and see if the scalds and bruises from the morning debacle weren’t too bad or longstanding. Perhaps he’d offer her a replacement coffee. Instead, he got waylaid by Mike, pumped up for the first game of the season that evening.

“Hey, Chakotay, what are you doing after we win tonight?” Mike put his arm around Chakotay and their path diverted, moving in the opposite direction of Kathryn’s lab. 

“I didn’t have anything really. Is there a celebratory tradition?”

They were heading to Tom’s room.

“Oh, well I’m heading into town to this tavern that just opened. I’m going with this woman and I was hoping you could keep her sister company. Tom already has Lanna, and well, Harry is Harry.

Chakotay opened his mouth to reply, but closed it just as quickly. He wanted to say no, but he also needed to push himself out there and be social.

“You know, yeah. That sounds good actually.” He smiled.

“Okay, well, meet at my place after the game and you can follow me and Megan.” Mike waved off and went to invite Tom out.

 

Friday night had been passable; completely and thoroughly okay. It was nice to go out, he’d admitted to himself. Mike had gone home with Megan about the time Tom and Lanna emerged at the same time from one of the bathrooms a little more mussed than a trip to the toilet should leave someone. At midnight, Chakotay drove Jenny home and made sure she got inside safely, dodging wandering hands and sloppy kisses. She just wasn’t his type. She was very forward and voracious, and too young and immature. She was also very inebriated and making bad judgement calls.

Chakotay shook his head at the memory, sighing as he walked into the thrift store he’d overlooked the first time he’d come to Garden City. He decided to spend his Saturday morning getting a few things for the house, namely more book shelves, and maybe a new filing cabinet would be prudent as well. Both would be a good start to making the house more functional.

As he was headed towards the furniture in the back, he spotted something in the small appliance section that he hadn’t realized he needed, but he scooped them up.

He walked out of the store twenty minutes later with a small bookshelf, his arm through the top shelf, balancing it on one shoulder. The heavy package under his other arm was the better find though. He couldn’t wait to clean them up for Monday. Hopefully they worked without too much fuss.

 

He got back into his classroom after lunch to find a slice of strawberry-rhubarb perfection from Reverie Pies. A neatly-written note balanced on top of the plastic-wrapped dish: 

I’ve been a bit prickly too. Thank you for being such a gentleman. Here’s some of my favorite pie as a belated welcome.  
To fresh starts,   
Kathryn

 

That morning he’d stolen into her classroom and left her a peace offering on her desk: the two hotplates from the thrift store, all cleaned up and repaired. As he was leaving, Kathryn came through the door, surprised to see someone already there. She met him at her desk and leaned to look past him at the objects he’d just abandoned.  
Her gaze returned to him, questioning. “This is wonderful. You didn’t…you shouldn’t have.”  
He smiled, faint lines appearing at the corners of his eyes.   
Did she just make a noise? Was she okay? She took a deep breath and thanked him quietly.  
“You’re welcome.” He shrugged and left her to examine the new equipment for her classroom. As the door knocked shut behind him, he saw her carefully unfold the note he’d left:

I’m sorry to have been such a constant thorn in your side since I arrived. I hope this helps with peace negotiations.  
Mr. Walker

The last two periods of the day found student glances eyeing the pie on the corner of Chakotay’s desk. It was in the middle of last period that he realized the note Kathryn had left him was still open in full view on the desk. He felt his face warm as he put the paper away in the desk and a few of the girls tittered quietly. James just had a smug smile.

The phone in the house rang shrilly as Chakotay fumbled with his keys. He dropped his bag by the door and rushed to the phone, putting the pie on the counter.

Breathless, he picked up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Chakotay, sweetheart?”

“Mom, are you alright? You sound upset.” He sat down on one of the kitchen stools, untangling the cord from itself.

“Siibil…” She breathed his pet name over the line. She was crying.

“It’s your father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Siibil is and endearing term meaning "gift" in Yucatec (Mayan).


	5. Chapter 5

She poked at that one ticklish spot along his ribs and he abruptly turned on her. His arms, elbow deep in sudsy dishwater, sloshed liquid on the floor and left a good deal of mess on his little sister. He threatened her with the sprayer until, hands raised in reluctant surrender, she backed away laughing. Apparently helping her get the house ready for their parents’ return was not going to earn him any favors. 

“It’s good to have you home, even under the circumstances.” She dug in the cabinet for a dry towel so she could help him.

His smile vanished as the motives for his visit surged to the forefront of his mind. He stood, dripping, eyes unfocused and body paralyzed.

“Oh, Chakotay.” His sister hastened over to him, put the sprayer away and hugged him tight. 

He had so many regrets. He’d missed so much that he’d never be able to make up for. He wished, more than anything, that he could just have been content to stay with his family, work the Walker business, and be happy in the uncomplicated life he was born to.

But his father had always rightly called him his difficult child because of his irrevocably contrary nature. He could never choose the logical or easy path. 

_I mean I moved away. I left. I don’t work in the business. I’m don’t follow tradition. I’m not the understated, happy follower that I should be._

When his sister pulled away, his arms held her close for only a moment longer. She considered his troubled eyes.

“Mom will be excited to see you. She wanted to cancel the appointment to pick you up.” She gave his hands a squeeze and looked around the corner at the time.

“They’ll be home in about an hour.” She looked as if she had more to say, but Kiopak chose that moment to come in from the yard.

“We are all excited to see you, not just mom.” The man, a couple of years older and built of a sturdier constitution, embraced his brother, rubbing his dirty hands all over Chakotay’s shirt.

“If you aren’t afraid to get your hands dirty, I could use your help outside on this fence for a while.”

Chakotay frowned at the jibe, but followed his brother out the door after drying his hands.

 

Dinner was a quiet affair. Chakotay used the time to really look at his father, as the once hearty, strong man only ate a few bites and seemed far off, oblivious to much of what went on around him.

The news of the cancer had been a shock; the prognosis even more so. His mother goaded her husband to the doctor when he had a sickness that just didn’t seem to resolve. 

Kolopak fell ill so rarely that Sakina worried. It wasn’t the flu or a chronic fatigue, but stage IV colon cancer. Even a man stubbornly stuck in his old ways could succumb to such a disease. The diagnosis had come a couple of weeks ago. The pair decided to keep it all quiet until they decided on treatment.

Kolopak, man that he was, steadfastly refused treatment, choosing to spend the remainder of his mortal time at home. The decision was made and finalized just a few days ago and today they spent most of the day speaking with the doctor about terminal care and procedure. Mostly, it had been a discussion about pain management. 

Against his father’s wishes, Chakotay’s mother called their middle child, hoping that the two men, more alike than they’d admit, might settle some of their issues before they lost the chance. Both remained dogged, but often softened to Sakina’s reason. Chakotay had inherited her heart and independence, and he could typically be swayed with just the right amount of pressure. His mother always knew with what and when to nudge him.

Chakotay, meal forgotten, noted his father’s pale, thinning, body; his eyes half-open as his latest dose of medication began to take effect. As worrying, was his mother. Her distressed demeanor was permanently wrinkling her brow and her hands shook as she and Sekaya cleared the dishes and prepared the after-dinner tea.   
Kiopak helped his father settle in his chair in the front room, putting the cooling tea within reach of the ailing man. Chakotay, still reeling from the news and tired from the last-minute air travel, only held his tea, letting it warm his hands as he stared at the painting above his father’s head. The painting was the last he’d made before leaving home for college in the big city. Aside from brief visits home to see his mother and siblings, Chakotay hadn’t spent time with his father since their falling out. They were victims of their pride in their beliefs or non-belief. 

The middle son insisted that his father’s staunch traditionalism was outdated and occasionally in ignorance. It belonged in history and needed to adapt to the 20th century or he would be left behind. Until the age of 15, Chakotay lived immersed in the aforementioned way of living, though tempered by his mother’s neutrality on the issue. When he’d really opened his eyes to the world around him, to the wonders of modern technology, to the wonders that were now accessible to him, he couldn’t see his father’s too-conservative viewpoint. 

When Chakotay came back to himself, he was alone in the room with his father, his tepid tea wholly unappetizing. 

“Chakotay.” Kolopak’s voice was barely above a whisper. 

“Father.” He frowned, then moved to sit closer to the old man. He may not be on good terms with him, but Chakotay still respected him, if only as his elder, and he would treat him as such.

Kolopak sat up straighter at the proximity of his youngest son. It wasn’t out of discomfort, rather he seemed to be rallying energy.  
He laid his hand atop his son’s shoulder and tightened his grasp. Their eyes met and Chakotay saw his own regrets reflected at him in the amber gaze. Behind the regret, the stubborn regard radiated unconditional love. His father intended to make peace with his estranged son, and even more, hoped his son would find a peace of his own as well.

The rasping voice shook but strengthened as he spoke:

“Chakotay. Know that we will always be family. One blood, one people. I love our history, custom, beliefs, but it has taken me fifteen years to resolve my feelings. I love you and our family more. I’ve not always been there on your path with you. As parents do, I often chose my own way and resisted the change before me, even as my own child slipped between my fingers.”

Kolopak hushed his son, holding his palm up to stop any interruption.

“I will always, deep in my spirit, hold you close. All I really wish for you is happiness, but I have been the weaker of us. I am late, and it took your mother’s anger and your openness for me to admit that our relationship and your happiness is bigger and more important than our disagreements.” It had taken years for the man to listen to his children and wife, who had eroded him into more flexible acceptance of other life views. 

He sighed, breath hitching as he continued to speak, fighting to remain firm.

“You came when you had no reason to. I’ve only pushed you further away. And I only hope it will be a long time until we find each other again. I wish you only a long and happy life.”

Chakotay felt a burning in his chest and his throat contracting convulsively before he held a breath and slowly released the air, joining his hand with his father’s.

“Promise me you will always follow your true heart. Don’t make my mistakes. Love deeply and listen to your spirit. Learn from my lapses.”

Chakotay waited for him to continue as he shifted in his chair again.

“For too long, your siblings and your mother have suffered from our…my behavior, I accept most of the blame. Forgive me. Be there for your mother. Be with Kio and Kaya. It saddens me that this is what brings our family together, but my penance is just.”

“I forgive you,” Chakotay whispered, then repeated himself calmly. “I always forgave you, even when I hated you and I didn’t understand, even when I didn’t know it.”

His father nodded and laid his head back against the cushion of his chair.

Chakotay felt a weight lift from his shoulders only to have it replaced by a helpless sorrow. He only had a few days here before he had to fly back home. His mother had pulled him aside, eyes overflowing. She’d missed him terribly; weekly phone calls were a poor substitute for visits from her son. She’d wrapped her arms about his shoulders, reluctant to let him go; worried perhaps that she wouldn’t see him after his visit this time. He’d run his hands in circles on her back, then rested warm palms on her neck, cradling her to his chest.

His father wasn’t expected to make it to his birthday, only a couple months away.

Chakotay assured Sakina he would visit when he could and call more frequently. As his dad faded away, he was determined to make these last weeks count and heal his family.

The entire family saw Chakotay off on Tuesday morning as he boarded his flight to Wichita, a box of old keepsakes and his medicine bundle in hand. He had obligations elsewhere, but home had just become home again in a way it hadn’t been for a long time.  
 


	6. Chapter 6

“Okay, gentlemen, we need to keep the season going strong. Let’s take out those Gorillas!”

The testosterone-laden room vibrated with excitement. The Cougar football team planned to win the mid-season game, though their 1A school was often a seasonal underdog. 

Chakotay checked to make sure each of the kids had all their gear in place and gave each individual a few words of encouragement as Mike talked to them as a group, pumping them up. 

Chakotay shaded his eyes as he walked out after the stampede of sweaty players. The stands were full of undulating crimson and grey. The whole town seemed to come out for these games. A small fraction of the crowd grouped together in greens and yellows, huge gorillas on their hats and shirts. At the front and to the left, the staff section was packed to the brim with teachers and their spouses.

As Chakotay approached the bench he looked at the cheering faculty. Tom and Lanna drank from an opaque water bottle and he suspected that their blush wasn’t only from the fading late-summer heat. Ray Tuvok sat stoically in a burgundy sweater vest and short sleeves next to Mr. Neelix, the school cook, tolerating the endless chatter, just barely, and cheering at the appropriate intervals. On Ray’s other side were Sam and her husband Gregg, and Kathryn was sandwiched between Harry and the hulking art teacher, Misha, a sweet, intense old man who doubled as the school librarian.

Chakotay’s eyes lingered on Kathryn, dwarfed between the two men, but completely comfortable as they gave her plenty of space on either side, talking animatedly to the older of the two. 

Over the last few weeks, Chakotay had the chance to see Kathryn’s more passionate side as he often caught her excitedly talking to Sam or Tom in the workroom over the first coffee of the morning, discussing a particularly promising student’s science fair plans or some of the spectacular blunders in the lab. Her cheeks would flush ever so slightly and her pale arms and delicate hands would punctuate her speech, moving with a beautiful grace, flittering like a hummingbird. 

She certainly had a distinct presence. He’d seen how rapt her students were in her class- the girls admired her and the boys, well, they were hormone-laden drooling messes. 

Chakotay wasn’t much better. He found himself increasingly drawn to the woman, sneaking glances and supplying the good coffee for the work room (for himself, and perhaps more for her). Her standoffishness faded as the school year settled and everyone got into their routine. She seemed to keep mostly to herself though, often staying late in her classroom and arriving before everyone else. From what he’d heard, she really didn’t do much with anyone outside of school hours, spouse, friends or otherwise. She attended events that were expected and little else. Apparently, though no one would talk about it, something had happened years back and since, she’d kept herself somewhat distant.

He shook his head and let his eyes wander over the rest of the stands as he found his fingers tingling, twitching with a desire to touch the wispy cloth of the white and yellow sundress and the narrow sun-kissed shoulders. Perhaps he would finally get around to actually talking to her about more than just work. 

_Wait, where did that come from? Focus!_

He went to the bench as the small marching band left the field from the pre-game show and the announcer introduced the singer for the anthem. 

Chakotay removed his cap and sang along quietly, voice smooth and deep, hand upon his chest.

 

The boys played hard and all the grueling practices paid off- they’d won, just barely, 21-20. They’d almost gone into overtime, but the other team had missed when going for the final point on their last touchdown. 

His students jumped and talked to each other and managed to heave up the water cooler and pour the frigid water on their coaches, yelling energetically.

 

He showered quickly and changed into fresh clothes before turning the lights off and locking the outer gym doors. As he turned towards home, Chakotay noticed a light still on in the main building of the school. He looked around the lot, but no cars were left. He decided to go in and turn the lights off so they weren’t left on all weekend.

The abandoned school, shrouded in thick darkness, was eerily quiet. Chakotay turned off the workroom light, closing the door quietly. The click of the tumbler in the lock echoed on the cool cinder walls of the hall. When he got to the only light source left in the building, he realized it was Kathryn’s classroom, and she sat at her desk, grading papers in silence. He watched her from the door for a moment, noting that her shoes sat beside the desk on the floor. She sat with her bare feet tucked underneath her in the oversized chair. She seemed perfectly at home and unlikely to move any time soon. Should he bother her? 

_Promise me._

Chakotay coughed quietly and shuffled to the big desk and the organized chaos that always seemed present.

“I didn’t think anyone was left here this late.” She spoke quietly without looking up, her pen scraping the paper as she tallied the test score and neatly recorded it in the gradebook to her right.

“I was just checking the lights. Um…”

He shifted his weight awkwardly to his other foot.

Kathryn looked up, surprised that her visitor wasn’t Tuvok there to berate her for another late night.

“I thought you were Mr. Tuvok!”

She put her pen down and closed the gradebook.

“I do suppose it is a bit late. You aren’t celebrating your victory with everyone?”

“You aren’t?” He smiled shyly and rested his hip on the edge of the desk.

“I had just a few things to tie up to free up most of my weekend from this endless grading.” Her smile matched his as she stood, shifting to stretch discreetly. She let out a long   
breath and took a sip from the ever-present mug.

“I’m more of a peace and quiet kind of guy. I’m sure Mike is doing plenty to celebrate for the both of us. I’ve gone to the last few, and I really just planned to start off the weekend with an early…” He checked the clock “…ish night.”

She brushed past him to empty her cup in the sink and rinse out the dregs. He’d never seen her without shoes. He leaned to the side and peeked at the heeled shoes. The heels had to be at least three inches. It explained why she barely cleared his shoulders flat-footed. She was kind of cute when he caught her off guard.

_Promise me._

“Well, I was thinking of getting a coffee on my way home, if you’d like to join me?” He held his breath, unaware of how nervous he was. He was a grown man, wasn’t he? He could go to coffee with his friend. His colleague. Even though she was a single, stunning, intriguing woman. His mouth went dry.

“I thought you wanted quiet?” She raised an eyebrow and kept her eyes on him while she slipped her shoes on.   
He cleared his throat, his stomach fluttering at her proximity when her hand loosely gripped the desk right next to his hand as she adjusted her shoe with a little hop.

“I wouldn’t mind just a smidgeon of company. If anything, for the walk home. I’m assuming, uh, since there aren’t any cars in the lot, and since it’s such a nice night…”  
He followed her to the door.

“I always enjoy coffee and good company.” She shot him a sly look right before turning out the light, plunging them into pitch.

Kathryn walked ahead confidently, only slowing as she got to the workroom, eyes adjusting she looked back to make sure Chakotay still followed. He walked more carefully, avoiding the banks of lockers, just barely.

She waited at the front doors, keys dangling from the handle. She moved fast!

Once he cleared the doors, Kathryn nudged them closed with her hip and double-checked that it was locked. She turned to him, much more relaxed, a smile painting her face as the workweek officially ended.

“Lead the way Coach Walker.”

They walked out to the street and headed west towards downtown, the yellow glow of the sparse street lamps lighting their way. 

“So…” He suddenly couldn’t think; absolutely nothing came to mind. He’d asked her to coffee sure enough, but hadn’t considered what to do after that! The stop for coffee might be awfully quiet after all. 

“So, the boys did really well tonight.” She complimented him, stepping aside to avoid a hole in the concrete. 

“I’m very proud of them. They do well in class- mostly. They’re very determined. The last group of students I worked with weren’t quite as dedicated to school pride, but I’ve gathered that regional sports are taken much more seriously here.”

She frowned slightly, and steered the conversation elsewhere.

“How do you like Attleboro so far? Are you settling in?”

The breeze picked up, making his scalp tingle as new perspiration dried, leaving a gritty residue behind. He thought for a moment about his answer.

“I’m settling well. Better than I really thought I would. I haven’t much to get settled.”

“Oh?” The wind grew stronger, whipping her dress about her knees before the gusts settled again.

“I’ve moved quite often the last few years. It’s made it easier to keep material attachments at a minimum. But my house is unpacked and more than I need really. Plus, the people here are so welcoming. I already feel very at home.”

At the City Hall, they turned north towards downtown.

“Well, we are pretty small. Unfortunately, that means we don’t always get as much privacy as we’d hope. New folks don’t move to town often. I’m surprised the Nosey Nellies around here haven’t chased you off.”

He chuckled.

“I don’t mind. It’s a tremendous change from being a cog in a big city.” He opened the door for Kathryn and let her lead him to a small table by the windows.

“If you don’t mind my asking, where are you from?” She pushed her menu to the side without looking at it. He glanced over the chalk board to check for the special of the day.

“My family is in Northern Cal…”

“Katie, honey, I’m glad you’re here!”

Gretchen came from the back, wiping her hands on a towel, flour all over her apron. The older woman upturned two coffee mugs from the shelf and started a new pot of coffee before coming to the table.

“Oh, and Chakotay! Back again, and in good company.”

Kathryn turned pink.

“Congratulations on the victory. Kathryn, darling, I need you to run to the market for me in the morning. Beatrice simply insists on never giving notice and she’s asked for service for the whole club first thing tomorrow and she wants that one tea!”

“Just give me a list, Mom.”

He’d thought the two women had quite a resemblance, but seeing them together made it obvious. Of course, the flirtatious spitfire who ran Reverie Pies was Kathryn’s mother.

“I have to be in by six and I can’t make the trip and everything else. I wasn’t sure if I was going to see you when you got home. I was about to call and leave a message on the machine.”

Kathryn smiled and took the list from Gretchen.

“Sorry to intrude, Chakotay, I was worried I wouldn’t catch my daughter and you delivered her right to me! Coffee?”

_What is with this family and coffee?_

Mugs appeared before them and Gretchen disappeared into the back again.

Chakotay noticed the woman across from him seemingly having a love affair with the steaming brew, looking away quickly when she caught his stare.

“My mother can be a little excitable, sorry.”

“Like mother, like daughter. Nothing to be sorry for. She’s passionate about what she does.”

Kathryn pinkened again at the compliment and hid behind the large tankard of coffee.

“Would you like some pie? My mother’s mentioned that it’s almost a nightly visit from you now.”

She quieted quickly when she realized what she’d said, all but admitting that her and Gretchen had discussed him. She wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“I do have a sweet tooth. Whatever you’d like.”

The chair rasped on the worn floor as she abruptly escaped from the table and ducked behind the counter to grab the coffee pot, forks, napkins, and a generous slice of raspberry-peach pie.

“Northern California, huh?” She took a bite of pie, messy crumbs trailing on the table.

“What brings you to the middle of nowhere, Kansas? Most people haven’t even heard of our town if they live more than thirty minutes away.”

“I needed a change of pace. To get back to doing what I love. Honestly, to just disappear into the woodwork somewhere and really get back to who I am.”

She nodded, understanding. She traded her fork for her drink.

“I came back a few years ago for similar reasons, but also to help out here at the shop and at the house.”

“Is your whole family here?”

“It’s just my mom and me. My dad passed when I was a teenager and my sister and her family are in Oklahoma City, but we don’t really get along anymore.” 

She took a deep breath, eyes downturned.

Composure regained a moment later, she met his eyes and smiled.

“What about you? Is your family all up in California? That’s where you went last month?”

“Yeah. My mom and father are up there. My sister and brother and their families and most of my extended family live in Cali and Oregon.”

She caught the mirror of her own sadness in his eyes, but she didn’t want to push him, and he was grateful. She barely knew him, though she’d admitted to herself she’d like to know him much better.

Chakotay left the last bite of the flakey dessert on the plate and pushed it to Kathryn.

“Do you think there’s a chance Gretchen would share some of her baking secrets with me?”

Right then, the subject of conversation came up front, soapy wash cloth in hand.

“Then I wouldn’t get your company every night, young man. I only share my recipes with family. So, unless you’ve eloped with my daughter, you’re out of luck.”

“Mom!” Kathryn looked at her mother, horrified.

“Oh, and don’t try to wheedle it out of that one…” Gretchen pointed her spray bottle towards her oldest.

“Much to my dismay, she can’t cook to save her life. So, unless you want to make fast friends with the fire department, you should just keep visiting me.”

“Mom!” Kathryn’s voice was half an octave higher and she’d sunk into her seat.

Gretchen was on a roll, a wicked glint in her eye. 

She looked pointedly at her cherry-red child.

“Though, grandchildren might change my mind or at least make the pie free.”

“M…Mother!” It was a frantic squeak from low in the chair as her knees knocked against Chakotay’s shins and she hid her face in her palms.

He laughed until he felt tears at the corners of his eyes.

“Have mercy mother!”

“What’s the point of getting old if you can’t say what you’d like, sweetheart?”

“Oh, God. I’m sorry Chakotay.” Kathryn peeped out at him from between her fingers to find a devastating smile, but she quickly hid again when she saw his shoulders trembling as   
he tried to hold in his laughter.

“Now, Kathryn, will you be helping me close up, or are you staying out tonight?”

“Um, Chakotay, it sounds like I need to make it an early night.” She looked sharply at her mother.

“Thank you for the company. I needed it, if anything, to escape those awful essays!”

“No. Thank _you_ Katie.”

A wide, dimpled smile caught her off-guard.

He took the dirty dishes to the counter by Gretchen and put them in the dish tub. The feisty old woman embraced him in valediction. She pulled him down by the shoulder and   
kissed him on the cheek and sent him off with a to-go cup of his favorite tea from the shop.

“Are you going to sit there all night mortified, honey?” Gretchen ushered Chakotay out and handed a broom to Kathryn.


	7. Chapter 7

He remembered loving field trips when he was in school. Maybe it was the freedom from the confines of the school and class, but my, was it tiring when he had to chaperone. He really hoped that he wasn’t quite as bad when he was a kid. Honestly, they weren’t that bad; anyone would get antsy stuck on a bus for so long. He’d been assured when he’d been voluntold to come, that it was worth it. 

Two weeks ago, Kathryn had come by the gym office during lunch to plead her case.

_Kathryn walked right into his office without knocking on the open door, a clipboard in one hand and a half-eaten cookie in the other. This wasn’t rare; her visits anyway._

_Though her classroom was halfway across the building, she had to pass by if she came from just about anywhere- the cafeteria, the break room…the front door. He didn’t think she noticed that she’d made a habit of dropping in and brightening his day with a smile and, more often than not, something edible and sweet from her mother’s kitchen._

_Chakotay was lucky he kept so active, otherwise he’d have gained ten pounds in the first two months of school. Between Kathryn and her incorrigible mother’s obsession with desserts, how both women were rail-thin, he had no idea._

_He was also quite pleased that she’d taken to calling him by his given name, even during school hours. He couldn’t say he minded, especially as she said his name with a particularly breathy lilt that made it just a smidge harder for him to breathe. He didn’t see either of these habits manifest between her and other colleagues, which made it even better._

_Chakotay hadn’t yet asked her on a proper date. They didn’t see each other outside of work and barely had extracurricular contact since the night he’d taken her to Reverie. Every time they got to talking and any subject with more substance than school came up, she became shuttered and it never seemed like the right time._

_On this particular afternoon, she’d come with an ulterior motive; she intended to bribe him with a small parcel of cookies (from which she’d sampled the one in her hand now)._

_He’d be another adult to chaperone the freshman/sophomore trip to the Cosmosphere in Hutchinson. She’d never forget the favor, and if he ever needed anything…_

_The trip was a biannual affair that she coordinated so the students could experience the, she insisted, phenomenal planetarium and historical artifacts and replicas housed in the museum. The collection featured mementos of some of the greatest moments in space-faring history._

_Aside from enjoying a starry view and imagining life up in the sky beyond his own comprehension, Chakotay typically kept himself down on Earth proper. It wasn’t the museum that interested him in the trip as much as the chance to spend a Saturday out with Kathryn and some of their kids, even though it would be a whole day without escape from a few dozen teens and most of the AHS staff._

_He hadn’t wanted to seem too eager though, she he’d let her wheedle for a few minutes before he gave in and signed the sheet on the clipboard._

Chakotay and Kathryn sat at the front of the first of two buses, supervising the freshmen. Lanna and Misha accompanied them on the lead bus, taking up one of the back seats. Chakotay kept an eye on the kids from his seat, while Kathryn sorted paperwork beside him, double checking the student forms.

The gaggle of adolescents wasn’t too bad so far, but only because they’d loaded the buses by 6:30am to get an early start on the three-and-a-half-hour commute. Most of the boys and girls sat blearily, hugging their packs so they could rest their chins atop and doze.

Kathryn dressed down for the day. She sported faded jeans and a teal tee under a light sweater, staving off the cooler fall air. Instead of the ever-present braided bun, her hair was cinched into a doubled-over ponytail. Glued to her left hand was the largest travel cup in the northern hemisphere. She looked tired, her eyes a darker blue and her skin just a tad on the grey side, but at his inquiry she’d assured him she’d just had a late night making last-minute preparations for the trip. Her 4:30 alarm hadn’t been kind, but coffee fixed most of the world’s problems, so she’d be fine in a few minutes.

By 7:30 Kathryn was her normal self, but so were their charges. The bus became a temple of contained chaos. He hoped that Sam, Tom, and Mike fared better in the second bus with the older kids, but he figured it probably wasn’t much of an improvement.

At 8am, he had a chance to see a side of Kathryn he’d never seen. They’d been discussing one of his favorite places to go when he went home. He told her of Astoria- the ocean (she’d never been) and the wonderful history and culture there. He proudly bragged that several books and films featured the area. As he regaled her with his last trolley ride, half a dozen grapes assailed them, most of which glopped against the inside of the windshield. One of the projectiles bounced off Kathryn’s arm as the divider in front of them sent it ricocheting. In an instant, the woman shot up and turned to face the rowdy bunch and the bus went entirely silent as she levelled steady, smoldering eyes at the crowd. She didn’t even have to say a word. The culprit and his conspirators sat frozen, wide-eyed under her commanding glare. Their intended target hunched in the seat behind Kathryn and Chakotay, a bespectacled, ginger-haired girl, often bullied by most of the boys in her class.

Keeping unrelenting eye contact with the guilty boys, Kathryn crawled past Chakotay to the aisle, walked resolutely back to the students in question, and murmured to them in a low voice.

They looked to their feet, chastised, while she got paper and pencils from Misha. She handed them the supplies and watched them as they wrote apologies then opened their lunch bags. She held the offending bag of grapes, asking if there would be a repeat performance.

“No, ma’am.” They squeaked in crackling voices.

She returned the grapes and took the papers from the boys. One of the boys muttered something to her and she turned back. She stretched out her hand and both boys put something into her hand. She turned and made her way to the front of the bus, sitting next to Leslie in the seat behind Chakotay.

The chatter resumed amongst the students. Kathryn sat for a moment with the girl, looking over the apologies and letting her pick from the two items in her hand.

Kathryn rejoined Chakotay. He scooted to the window so she wouldn’t have to climb past him again, as intriguing as it might be to just let her slink all over him. She handed him the other object in her hand, a Hostess cupcake.

At his confusion, she explained:

“Jack lives two houses from me and Robert lives three away in the other direction. I grew up with their mothers. Lest I tell their parents, they offered compensation to the wronged parties.”

Chakotay tilted his head, encouraging her to continue.

“Leslie was the intended victim and they interrupted you.” 

She grinned, nudging his knee with her own. He handed her the plastic-wrapped treat, insisting that she, as the injured party, partake.

She opened the flimsy package, pulled the frosted top from the cupcake and offered the bottom, cream-filled half to him. He chuckled.

“You’re a barbarian!”

“Mmm, but I share!”

 

The Cosmosphere, packed with fascinating exhibits, was very well-constructed with great interactivity and historical accuracy. Chakotay found himself pleasantly surprised that the adults, teenagers, and younger children from other groups all had a delightful time.

Kathryn seemed perfectly in her element, flitting between displays, explaining the physical principles of space travel or the theories behind one phenomenon or another. Her eyes shone a bright, sparkling sapphire, and her body moved in a rhythm that emphasized her excitement, alternately pacing and swaying between anchored feet as her arms pirouetted in their cerebral dance.

Chakotay’s throat contracted on the air, his tongue like leaded cotton. His knees still burned with the ghost of her warmth from the close quarters on the bus, the heat of her thighs when she’d shimmied past in the bus seat nipped at him, low in his stomach. He found himself happy to be in the back of the group, herding wayward teens, for he wasn’t sure he could speak without his voice choking or move too fast without stumbling. How could she be so comfortably unaware of her effect on the people around her? She moved with confidence and a graceful openness that he found undeniably sexy. She invaded his thoughts to distraction and she had no clue what she did to him. He sighed and move on with the group.

Everyone left at midday to lunch on the lawn of the community college next door. The cerulean sky exemplified the perfection of mid-October on the plains. Chakotay sat with his sack lunch in a small group of students discussing the Apollo missions. Kathryn, cross legged, chatted fifteen feet away with Leslie and two of the other girls, sipping her drink. 

He’d only noticed once they got there, that Kathryn hadn’t brought a lunch of her own. He’d offered to share his, but she’d waved him off. She’d forgotten her lunch on the counter at home, it was her fault not his, she insisted. She’d be fine. He set aside half of his sandwich anyways, it might come in handy later. If he’d learned anything from his mother and sister, it was that food could often bridge one’s mood from angry to placated and rational. Hopefully she liked peanut butter and honey.

After lunch, everyone filed into the planetarium. In the darkness, Chakotay felt cradled by the reclining seat and the still darkness in the yawning sphere. The announcer’s firm voice highlighted the various constellations, discussing a brief origin of each then noting various phenomena of interest in the solar system and beyond. She explained the science behind shooting stars and the life cycle of the sun that shined outside.

The students gaped, engrossed. Chakotay smiled, watching the kids as they glimpsed the vastness of the universe. Did they look up into the night sky on a clear evening and ponder what lay past the boarders of their little blue planet, unseen and unexplored? Did they dream of extraterrestrial cultures, different than anything they could put into words? 

Might the universe be a peaceful place that could offer them knowledge and acceptance or would the beings be war-like and uncooperative? Would Earth be an infant in the universe, or a more advanced civilization among the others?

 

At 4:30, the AHS contingent loaded onto the buses, prattling on and shoving playfully, but after half an hour on the road back, they began to succumb to exhaustion.

They’d finished their visit in the IMAX and the extensive gift shop of fun bobbles. Chakotay picked up a book on constellations and a small perpetual motion toy to keep on the end of his bedroom bookshelf.

Lanna peeked at his book as he waited to check out, nodding her approval. She planned to buy a poster that featured a timeline of NASA history as a gift for Tom and a keychain for herself.

Kathryn and Misha had gone ahead to check on the buses and grab the box of snacks and water for the ride back.

As each student boarded the bus, Kathryn checked their names off the departure list and Misha handed them refreshments. 

Misha lopped to the second bus to make sure everyone was accounted for, talking with Mike for a moment before returning. He handed Chakotay and Kathryn their snacks and carried the boxes back to the rear of the bus where he stationed himself next to Lanna again.

Now, as they passed the endless golden fields on deserted highway, the light faded in the sky in tangles of burning reds, oranges, and deep purples. Wisps of light grey clouds in the distance fractured the remaining sunlight into shafts of brilliant dusty prisms on the sienna of the landscape. Moments like these were what he came for- the Kansas sunsets, the endless life in the tilled ground and the simpler peace that came with an immersion in nature and the work of providing for the nation and the future generation.

Beside him, silhouetted against the window, Kathryn dozed, her apple cradled forgotten on her lap next to the book she’d been reading, her finger buried within the pages to keep her place. He gently took hold of the items and worked them from her grasp so she wouldn’t drop them if she moved. Interestingly, the book was a Patricia Cornwell. He’d assumed she was more of a non-fiction person rather than a mystery buff. He was familiar with the series, but hadn’t realized the third book had come out. 

She awoke once on the trip back, slightly panicked until she saw that the students were doing just fine, most of them napping themselves. Chakotay offered her something to eat when her stomach rumbled loudly.

“You really should eat more, you know. I don’t think frosting, coffee and half a sandwich are very balanced.”

“Oh, I try. I just get so distracted sometimes. Justin always said the same thing, I…”

She trailed off, embarrassed to mention her ex-husband. Chakotay caught her slip-up. She hadn’t mentioned any past or present relationships to him, though they hadn’t been on a proper night out, nor really talked. Gretchen had implied that her daughter had been out of the game for a while now. During one of his visits to Reverie, he’d also learned that her last major relationship had something to do with the falling-out between sisters.

When the bus pulled up to the school, the kids and staff stumbled off. By 8:30 the last student got into her mother’s car, headed for home.

Chakotay stopped Kathryn before she started to walk home, offering his half-awake colleague a ride. She graciously accepted and pulled herself up into the cab of his truck.

“Where am I going?”

“A left out of the drive and a right on Cooper. It’s the last house on the right before the second stop sign.” She yawned, her entire body shaking as all her muscles stretched in sympathy, once again crammed into an uncomfortable seat.

“Thank you for coming Chakotay and for all of the help. I hope you enjoyed the trip.” She leaned her head against the window as the slowly rolled down the quiet street.

Chakotay pulled into the driveway next to an old blue Camry and shut the engine off.

_It’s as good a time as any._

“Kathryn, I was wondering if you’d like to go see a movie tomorrow? Maybe get something for dinner together?”

The cab stayed silent. Looking over, he saw her asleep, cheek flattened against the window, mouth open just a fraction. Chakotay put a hand gently on her shoulder, shaking her softly into wakefulness.

“Kathryn, we’re home.”

“hmmm. Yes. Thank you. Would you like to come in for a drink before you leave?”

“Tea?”

“Whiskey?”

“Even better.”

Thirty minutes later found them nursing glasses of whiskey as Gretchen headed upstairs and bid them goodnight with a smirk.

“I really can’t thank you enough for your help today, Chakotay.”

“It’s not a problem, maybe it’ll earn me brownie points down the road.”

Kathryn shifted in her chair, kicking off her shoes and burying her toes between the arm and cushion beneath her.

They talked comfortably until nearly one in the morning. 

He talked about his favorite parts of the trip that day and the best exhibits, most notably the planetarium. He admitted the joy he had spending time with the kids and his hopes   
to have some of his own one day. He confessed also, that he enjoyed spending time with her. That brought out her smile again.

She told him about growing up working in Reverie with her mother, sharing knowledge with her professor father who’d taught at the college half an hour away.

He shared his experiences in a traditionalist household and his musings on his stint in the monotonous corporate world after his first few years as a teacher.

She bemoaned her reluctance to drive anymore, but admitted she didn’t mind walking most days because it gave her the time she needed to think and keep herself grounded.

The whiskey bottle floated from the kitchen to the coffee table. Kathryn had done away with formalities, especially because she seemed to have increasing difficulty walking and holding their glasses upright, her shoulder sliding along the wall as she sauntered into the room.

“You know, I don’t know why Shakotay, but I trrrust you. You’re very kind. You, uh, you are good to me. Nobody’s ever good to me you know. I just, I don’t think I deserve it   
anyways. Why do you always look at me like you, like you only see me in the room? He never looked at me like that.”

He sipped, swirling the sweet, golden liquid on his tongue before letting it burn down his throat and sizzle through his chest. He was still on his second glass and indulging ice water between drinks. She’d worked her way through twice as much.

“Everyone hates me because of him.” She spat out the word him.

“I hate… My sister hates me because I have horrible taste in him. But you aren’t that. Why do I like you? You should stay away.”

Her eyes tracked him across the room as he disappeared for a moment then came back into the room, smoothly replacing her glass with a large tumbler of tepid water from the tap.

He capped the bottle of whiskey and slid it out of reach.

“No one here hates you Kathryn. Everyone enjoys your company, but you rarely come out outside of work. Why would anyone hate you?”

He knew he was prying, but he also wanted to learn more about this woman and what shaped the insecurities that trembled beneath her skin. He wanted to know why she   
frequently Chakotay into herself and felt the need to hate or punish herself.

“Hate me because I ruined him. It was my fault. I didn’t mean to, but it doesn’t mean I’m any less responsible.”

Her head bobbed as she took deep breaths.

“I’m the woman who drove my husband to do awful things.”

She sobbed once, then caught herself. His heart cracked at the sound.

“He…I’m why Sabrina is dead. I should have known, never let him do it. I should have seen it all. She’ll never come back and I’ll never see my sister again.”

“But your sister is Phoebe.”

“My niece is…was Sabrina. My sister won’t even come to see mom because of me.”

She put her water down on the table and looked directly into Chakotay’s eyes, her gaze steady.

“My ex-husband was a prescription drug addict, he made bad decisions. I should have seen it, but he hid it from me. We were driving Sabrina home after she spent the weekend over. It wasn’t far. An hour south of Wichita. I didn’t die because I didn’t have my seatbelt on. I wish I had.”

Her stare tore away from his face and she threw back the last of the whiskey in the remaining glass.

“I don’t think he ever loved me.” She sighed. “I never loved him.” She pulled her sleeves to cover her hands and hugged herself.

Chakotay kneeled in front of her chair and folded his arms around her, holding her to him as she breathed, her drunken gasps hiccupping every minute or two.

He looked up, glancing at the pictures on the wall as he soothed her. When his observations roamed past the stairs his gaze met Gretchen’s as she sat on the top stairs in her loose night gown.

She nodded to him, their silent stares communicating tomes of information. Gretchen was devastated by her daughter’s admission, though not surprised. Her daughter penned   
everything up and never grieved after she got out of the hospital. She’d never gone to counseling, not talked about those years of her life in her marriage. Gretchen knew Chakotay must be something special if he’d elicited such anguished confessions that had been boiling, silent for four years. She knew he knew the significance of such a trust, even if Kathryn was blind to it. 

Gretchen descended the stairs when Kathryn began to quiet down. She stealthily refilled Kathryn’s water glass, returning to find Chakotay, his hand gently holding Kathryn’s head to his chest, his other arm around her waist, thumbs working in small circles as he murmured into her ear, or was he humming?

She put the water down beside the chair and bent to give Chakotay a kiss on the forehead. She pointed to a door down the hall then excused herself back to bed.

Kathryn had tuckered herself straight into oblivion. Chakotay roused her from her stupor just enough that she could stumble, encircled in one arm, towards her bedroom while   
Chakotay carried her water.

He wrestled her sweater off and tucked her into her blankets. She sighed when he kissed her cheek before he pulled away to leave.

When he cleared the glasses from the living room, he found a quick note from Gretchen perched by the sink.

The spare is right next to Kathryn’s. Make yourself at home.  
Thank you. You’ll never know how much.  
-Mom

He folded the note into his pocket carefully and checked to make sure the doors were locked before heading towards the guest room. He looked in on Kathryn once more to find her dead to the world, then went into his room and stripped down for bed.

 

When he woke, the sun was already high in the sky. The house still, filled with absolute silence, had been abandoned by its mistresses. 

He found another note taped to the bathroom mirror in Kathryn’s hasty scrawl, reiterating that he should make himself at home and that he should stop by the shop on his way home.

After he freshened up he headed downtown and parked behind the book store.

He typically didn’t visit Gretchen’s shop during the day, so he wasn’t wholly prepared for wall to wall people. As the two high schoolers took orders from the patrons, Gretchen worked in a flurry in the back and Kathryn kept coffees full and cashed-out customers at the till.

Everyone in the café was in their Sunday best, staining their ties and shirtsleeves in strawberry filling and enjoying every moment.

When Kathryn noticed him at the counter she beamed, her smile no fewer than 100 watts. It was infectious.

By noon, he’d indulged in two cups of tea and chocolate pie. Only one family remained at a table in the corner.

Kathryn sent the kids to clean while she sorted the receipts. Gretchen tutted and shoed her towards Chakotay to take a break before the next wave came in.

He figured he might as well ask her now, otherwise he might not ever get it out. 

“Movie and dinner tonight?” It doubled as acceptance of the drunken confessions. She hadn’t scared him away. 

She loosened her hair and re-tied her ponytail. 

“Even after that mess last night?”

“We all have something. You trusted me enough to share. That doesn’t make you a mess. It means you’re human.”

“What time?” The corner of her lips curled up in a half smile.

“Five.”


	8. Chapter 8

He held the cool hand in his, eyes closed, focused on the beep coming from the monitor beside him as the nurse finished checking his father’s vitals. The rhythmic tone stopped when she packed up the portable device and left the room. She probably wouldn’t be back before his father died.

Silence. Deafening. It made him feel numb. Floating, limbs tingling, as if he hadn’t been in the same chair for hours.

He knew he shouldn’t grieve for a man who was not yet lost to him. Deep down, he knew that his real grief was for the time lost to years of disagreement and the missing experiences between father and son. His grief was tinged with the silvery reaches of a soft resolution and happiness that he could put to rest so many of his fears and his anger.   
He’d gotten a chance to reconnect with his father over the last months of his life, something he knew others didn’t always have. It was something he didn’t know he’d needed to loosen some of the turbulence in his heart.

Chakotay raised his head and opened his eyes. The scene before him had changed little in the last five days. Dutifully, he’d stayed rooted to this chair, cherishing the lucid waking moments with his father. His siblings spelled him, carrying heavy hearts. His mother focused on caring for her children during the day and holding her husband through the nights. 

But he found he felt a certain sense of obligation towards himself and his progenitor, so here he sat, restless, hesitant to leave the old man’s side.

The stubble, rough on his cheeks, rasped against his hands as he rubbed his face, encouraging blood flow so he could stay awake.

Gasps. 

Sighs. 

The fading light of the day peeked through the curtains, slowly extinguishing beneath the horizon.

Chakotay’s spirit longed for his father’s release from pain and weakness in the ravaged body. He pleaded to whoever listened for his father’s gentle passing so he could finally be at peace in a way he never could be here on Earth.

Sakina slipped into the room, carefully inching the door closed behind her.

She sat on the side of the bed, resting her hand on her husband’s cheek. Beneath his eyelids, Kolopak’s eyes fluttered at the touch. Lids opened, a sliver of warm honey appeared for only a moment. He slept again, secure in the embrace of his beloved, restful in the serene oblivion that soothed him in his last days.

Chakotay left to sleep on the couch and give privacy to his parents as they whispered to each other and his mother hummed softly, comforting throughout the night.

 

Before the sun came up, Chakotay woke to a disturbance in the house. Unsure, he sat up and listened for the sound again.

Nothing.

He rose and hurried to his parent’s bedroom.

His mother lay awake, her head on Kolopak’s shoulder. One of her hands smoothed over a chest that no longer moved with the rhythmic bursts of life. Her fingers traced nonsense on the cooling skin, pale and puckered. Her single lamenting wail had pierced the death in the air; it had woken him from his light sleep.

Chakotay tenderly held his mother’s hand atop the man’s chest until the body was as cool as the room.

Sakina got up from the bed well after morning daylight leaked into the room, peeling her fingers from her son’s grip.

Without a word, she brushed her hands lightly over Kolopak’s body, judiciously arranging his limbs and smoothing his hair. 

Chakotay unfolded the fine red cloth from atop the dresser, handing it to his mother and helping her cover the figure on the bed. They paid meticulous attention to make sure the cloth remained unwrinkled covered the body in its entirety. 

His mother dropped into the chair by the bed, her eyes on her husband, maintaining the quiet, constant waking vigil over the body.

The middle child only left to call his siblings, who called to make arrangements, contacted the cousins, who called the extended family as well.

He fell into his father’s chair, staring at the ceiling, not seeing, breathing in short puffs of air. Chakotay’s chest tightened and made it hard to breathe without feeling the million shards of his tattered heart tearing at his ribcage. His hands shook, no matter how hard he gripped his thighs. His muscles pulled taut, vibrating, cramping and angry with grief.   
He shut his eyes tight when he heard the soft sobs of his mother in the other room.

Though the lingering sadness would weigh heavy on his heart, Chakotay found happiness in the relationship he’d repaired with his parents in the last few months. He would remember his father…his dad, as a mulish man who held his ground, but was also infinitely wise if not always timely- he knew when he’d been wrong and had the strength to admit it. 

The funeral would take place before sunset, but until then all family members would fast in their mourning and take turns keeping watch over Kolopak. The dead must always be watched over, no sleep, no rest, never left alone, lest the spirit lose its hold on the world too soon.

Tomorrow would be a celebration of remembrance and joy as they all came together to share stories about his late father and the makings of his great spirit as they released the memories of the great man into the heavens. The ceremonies offered cathartic liberation of grief and an offering of forgiveness both for and from the spirit.

Sekaya arrived at the house first, children and husband in tow. She walked to her brother, leaned into him, giving him strength and taking it just as much. She went to her mother.

Not five minutes later, Kiopak and his son came through the back door. Kio set his son about gathering the materials to prepare Kolopak. Sekaya took Sakina to be with her grandchildren while the men went to the kitchen to arrange the food. She left her mother to go into the bedroom and say goodbye to her dad.

The house filled, but remained somber in the dazzling day, warm and still. Even the young children knew the importance of the day and spoke in whispers, tiptoeing around the kitchen while their mothers made tea for everyone.

Kio and Chakotay meditated and prayed to the sky spirits asking them to ferry their father's soul safely to the skies beyond. They asked for their souls to be cleansed and left joyful as they sent their father from his physical trappings.

Moving the crimson sheet carefully and folding it at the foot of the bed, they removed the clothes from the body, taking care to fold them neatly. They started to clean the man's skin with the cool, fragrant water, paying special attention to every wrinkle and bend. Reverently, they dried the ashen limbs until they were finished with the task.

Both men picked up a bottle of spiced oil, fragrant with sandalwood and lavender. Starting again, they moved over every inch of Kolopak's skin with light, sure touches like feathers tumbling from the breath of a baby's cry.

Chakotay mirrored each sweep of Kio's hands and pulled back, wiping his hands on a clean cloth at the end of the charge.

From another pile of cloth his mother had prepared, Chakotay took a fresh set of clothes intricately woven with patters of reds, browns, and blacks. The pants and tunic were something Sakina had made over the last weeks, intended for this day in particular.

Once Kolopak was clothed and properly tucked beneath his scarlet shroud, their mother came back into the room with the rest of the family to continue the watch while the men went to prepare for the cremation.

 

That night, as the bonfire burned, the extended family sang together, songs they knew and loved all their lives, in happiness or sorrow, in old age or as children. They lapsed into silences, broken by murmurs and children’s yawns.

Chakotay, arm around his mother and his niece balanced on his hip, lamented his loss and the loss of the people around him. The deep baritone of his voice shivered, breath clouding in the cool air of the early evening as the dark enveloped the world. The steam ballooned from his lips, a stark glimmer in the air lighted by the leaping of the flames on the symbolic pyre.

The smoke permeated his clothes, clogging the follicles in his skin and seeping into his blood. The fire, the cloudless sky, and the rise and fall of the voices buzzing in his ears wrapped him in nostalgia, grounding him in things he’d never really appreciated until he found himself thinking about his future and family. Thick air burned in his lungs, purifying the very cells. It struck him briefly, that he had only started thinking about his future in such domestic ways again since he’d moved to Kansas. He’d been so concerned in his own misery before that, that he never took the time to pursue the thoughts of family, even love. Maybe it wasn’t entirely the new town or the new job. Something clicked the moment he’d set eyes on her. Without even knowing it, she’s the one who set him up for his reconciliation with Nathan. 

They stayed until the fire had died to mere embers. They covered the ashes in the fine topsoil. 

Close family met at Sakina’s brother’s house for a late meal, then left close to midnight. 

Chakotay felt immeasurably happy to see all his family in one place. He enjoyed lifting his little cousins in the air and feeling the arms of his uncles holding him tightly and offering words of strength and condolence. His favorite cousin, Elenia, had grown since he’d seen her. She’d blossomed into a beautiful young woman and spoke of dreams to go to medical school and treat pediatric oncology patients. She broke the mold as he did, aspiring beyond the traditionalism of her family and longing for the outside world. She excitedly told him that she’d applied to University of Kansas pre-med and she was happy she would have family within driving distance.

Kaya and her husband left directly to get the young children and Kio’s son home, but Kiopak stayed to help Chakotay get their mother home and settled. They unlocked the door in the dark early morning hours, settling in by one.

Chakotay fell to sleep on the lumpy couch, remembering that the day after tomorrow would be his birthday and he didn’t even want to be bothered about what turning older meant to him. His flight back to Kansas left the day after.

 

Ankal drove Chakotay to the airport early Friday morning, avoiding the Black Friday traffic and taking the back roads to the travel center.

Heavy grey clouds hovered, obscuring the rising sun. The sky sputtered and spat fat drops intermittently along the road, streaming water flowing in thick lines on the windshield.

Before Chakotay boarded the plane, his brother-in-law handed him a small wrapped package with a birthday card from Kaya and Kio. They shook hands warmly, mumbling their goodbyes to each other and making half-hearted promises about visiting each other soon.

On the plane, Chakotay sighed in defeat as he adjusted himself in the cramped middle seat, the armrests digging into his sides, unrelenting in their determination to cause discomfort. A large man with greasy hair and questionable oral hygiene habits squeezed past and wriggled into the window seat, snuffling into a handkerchief as he coughed. To his right, a seven-year old girl looked at him, wide-eyed and bouncing as she sat on her own hands. Across the aisle, her mother dug into her bag, producing crayons and a coloring book and rearranging snacks to more convenient positions. 

After take-off, as the plane leveled out, the girl quieted and the large man snored loudly. Chakotay closed his eyes and let his head fall back onto the pillow behind his neck. 

Hands folded loosely across his lap, Chakotay thought. He turned his brain back on for the first time in days. He processed what had happened over the last few weeks. Everything had moved so fast in November, some things moved too fast- like his father’s death, and others, much sweeter, progressed perfectly- like his budding relationship with Kathryn.

_Chakotay swung by the shop again at a quarter to five, indulging in a tea as Kathryn finished her shift and went to the back to change her shirt and hang her apron._

_He’d called the theatre in Garden City and was surprised that quite a few movies were showing, including many that seemed interesting. On Tom’s recommendation, he also planned to take Kathryn to a neat little restaurant next to the theatre for dinner. In truth, he didn’t care about what he ate or what they watched. He only wanted to spend some quality time with the woman who took his hand and dragged him from the pie shop, excited for a night out with a guy who wasn’t scared of her baggage._

_They debated over the movie. He supposed he should have known that nothing would be easy. She insisted that they see Last of the Mohicans, he insisted they see Mr. Saturday Night. She wanted him to enjoy the date, the historical drama a perfect movie for his tastes. He wanted her to cheer up, watching a campy comedy might help that. Chakotay insisted that he’d enjoy either movie, and that her pleasure during their night out made him happy enough. He bought tickets to the comedy and quibbled over how much popcorn to buy._

_In the theatre, he held the popcorn as she dug her hand in repeatedly, putting away more popcorn than anyone that small ever should. At one point, their hands brushed each other in the carton and she pulled away, realizing she’d been mindlessly groping at popcorn and his lap. She smiled and wiped her hands on some napkins. She held her stomach when she realized how full she’d gotten, and apologized for hogging the snack._

_She didn’t laugh enough. Another thing he’d have to remedy, because she lit up, beautiful when she let herself giggle. She didn’t smile enough, but she did when she was with him. He knew, watching her relax, that he might not be able to fix the dark clouds that hovered over her, but despite their pasts, both could identify with each other on a higher level and bring out a happiness that might otherwise be lost._

_After the movie, they enjoyed a brief dinner before going back to Attleboro._

_As they pulled into Kathryn’s drive again, she invited him to stay for a little while._

_“But not too late, I promise. We have work. Oh, and just coffee this time.” She reddened, remembering the night before._

_Chakotay couldn’t resist the temptation to join her._

_She left him on the porch swing in front and went to get the coffee started. When she came back to the porch she’d put on a sweater and removed her shoes._

_“You really seem to hate shoes.” He observed. She took any opportunity to walk around bare-footed, at least from what he’d seen._

_“I should make you wear heels for a day.” She smirked at the thought, plopping down next to him on the swing._

_“Thank you for such a nice evening. I don’t know how long it’s been since I went to a movie. The last one I saw might have been, uh, Pretty Woman?”_

_“Well, I love seeing stuff in the theater, so I might have to drag you out a bit more often than once every couple years.” He hadn’t been sure if he’d gone too far, already implying that there’d be more dates, but she only smiled._

_“I’d probably let you drag me out to almost anywhere.” She blushed a bit and escaped back into the house to get their drinks._

_“Mom left a note. She’s at her bridge night tonight, so she won’t be home to tease you or humiliate me tonight. Whatever will we do?”_

_She sat down again, offering him his coffee. He sat his mug on the porch railing, and after her first sip, he gently took her mug as well._

_“If it isn’t too presumptuous, I wouldn’t be opposed to kissing you.” He looked directly into her eyes to judge her reaction._

_He was met with an unsure but playful look and just the slightest nod, her smile reappearing._

_Chakotay rested one hand on her shoulder and brought the other up to tilt Kathryn’s face towards his. He leaned in a few inches, slowly moving towards her, watching her intently in case she changed her mind._

_She inhaled deeply, held her breath, then let it out painfully slow just before his lips met hers._

_The kiss began tentatively, her lips tense for moments before softening and molding to his. She breathed in, sucking the air as her body tried to absorb the sensation. Her warm breath brushed past his upper lip in controlled exhales. Her eyes closed and her lips parted, opening to him. She was a whirl of chocolate, coffee, and popcorn. Her hands skimmed his waist and came to rest curled under his arms. He couldn’t breath as he lost himself in her pliable, heated skin._

_Too soon, he pulled back, dropping both hands to her forearms. She sighed and made the smallest sound of disappointment when the kiss ended. He could see her pulse racing in her neck, her eyes somewhat unfocused and her pupils dilated more than the bright porch light required._

_Chakotay returned her coffee mug from the railing and took up his own again, a grin breaking on his face. They sipped in silence for a moment, eyes locked, as she rocked the bench gently with her foot._

_“Can we do that again?” Quietly, muffled by the rim of her mug against her chin._

_“As you wish.” He didn’t even wait for her to put her coffee somewhere safe as he swooped in for another kiss._

_Her hands stayed cemented to her mug, but his framed her face and Chakotay her further towards him. He combed his fingers through her, loose hair, tangling at her neck and holding her to him, supporting her as she leaned her head back to relax the angle of their joined mouths._

_By the time they came up for air again she was pressed against him, their legs bruising against the wooden slats of the bench as they tried to occupy the same space._

_“Oh, my.” She touched her lips, warm and pink. Tendrils of muted red weaved their way up her neck, her eyes sparkled, glossy._

_“Would you like to go inside, so we don’t give the neighbors too much of a show?” She shifted a couple of inches to give him space on the bench._

_He finished his cooling coffee._

_“I should probably head home.”_

_Her face fell. Before she could say anything, he took one of her hands in his._

_“We both have school tomorrow, and I wouldn’t dream of taking advantage of such a lovely woman on a first date.”_

_“But…” She did admit, she’d had two glasses of wine at dinner. He was just being a gentleman. She didn’t expect anything less from him._

_He got up and took her cup, heading inside to deposit them in the kitchen. She followed like a kicked puppy, pouting. Even though she knew he should go home, it didn’t mean  
she had to like it._

_At the entrance to the kitchen, she blocked him from leaving._

_“Just one more?”_

_Chakotay sighed, playing that she was asking for an impossible feat, but took her up in his arms and kissed her nose lightly. She tilted her face up to him, waiting. His lips found her cheek, then the corner of her mouth. Silencing a whimper, she waited patiently. Pulling her with him, he backed towards the front door until he felt the handle dig into his hip._

_“One more.”_

_She raised herself onto the tips of her toes, stretching to meet him as their mouths melded together, tongues exploring and hands searching for purchase._

_Turning from her then, he bid her good night and left with a wink, just to drive her mad._

_They decided to take it slow. Over lunch on Monday they talked about what a relationship would really mean. Both agreed that they wanted to take their time and keep their relationship discreet for the moment. Admittedly, it wouldn’t take long for the whole town to find out, especially when Gretchen was convinced they were destined for each other.  
It would be good to enjoy their time together without prying eyes for a few weeks._

_On weekends, they were inseparable; on weekdays Chakotay found excuses to stay late so he could bother Kathryn in her room until she let him walk with her as both headed home. His favorite past time was holding Kathryn, lightly running his fingers along her arms until the dusting of fine hairs stood on end and her flesh rippled and raised in the path of his fingertips. She had made a habit of sitting between his knees in front of the couch and grading papers while he lounged and read, occasionally tipping her head back to meet his eyes, and often receiving a chaste kiss._

_He found himself holding back, reluctant yet to fully consummate their relationship. Instead he wanted to focus on a solid foundation and deeper understanding of both the other’s emotions and flaws._

_Mike had noticed that Chakotay rarely drove in to school anymore, often choosing to accompany Kathryn on her walk, and he knew why, but he would give them their privacy for a while._

_Tom and Lanna gave them time too, though they were excited at the prospect of another couple to go out with._

_It was a week before Thanksgiving break when Chakotay got the call from Kiopak, asking him to come to be with their father._

_Tom drove Chakotay to the airport two nights later._

_Though they talked about music and movies during the car ride, they also talked a bit about the women they were involved with. Tom advised Chakotay that Kathryn, like Lanna, could be stubborn to a fault (this he knew already!) and that she had a bad habit of taking all the blame whenever something went wrong. But with these short comings, he admitted that both women were also devoted and fiercely loyal._

_He warned Chakotay that he should be prepared for Kathryn to give of herself fully, and that if anything was ever done to hurt her, she had plenty of family to protect her and prevent anything from devastating her again. He’d even suggested that there was extensive family land, and no one would ever find him, if they so chose. Chakotay laughed nervously, detecting that Tom was only half-joking._

_Chakotay mentioned Justin and the accident, hoping that he might get a more objective side of the events Kathryn had mentioned. It confirmed her penchant for taking all the responsibility on her shoulders. It also made him sad to learn that she’d spent months recovering physically and years to really come back to herself mentally. He agreed with Tom that it wasn’t completely resolved, and that he’d communicate openly with Tom and Gretchen if he ever needed advice or help navigating the delicate balance she’d reestablished in her life. It might have been the only serious conversation he’d had with the man._

_He could do this._

_He never wanted to do something more in his life._

Turbulence shook the plane as they began to angle for descent.

The speakers above him toned softly before the flight attendant announced that they would be landing shortly and reminded them to stow their trays and check their seat belts.

It was comforting to him that he had a chance to tell his father about Kathryn and the happiness he had found in his new home. Now, he was back to continue his path to contentment.  
 


	9. Chapter 9

Chakotay waved at Mike as the man backed out of the drive.

Home.

He found he was glad to be back home. He missed his family, yes, but in the short time he’d been in this town, he’d grown to love the kids, the school, the community…

He fit into his little niche perfectly. There was something here that put him at peace in a way that nothing ever had. 

Dropping his bags in the kitchen, he made his way to the bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes. As he passed his dresser, he stopped and thought for a moment, then made his decision. He grabbed the medicine bundle from the top drawer. He settled on the cold, bare wood of the living room floor, legs crossed and bundle wrapped tightly in front of him on the coffee table. He hadn't opened the bundle since he was a teenager under the tutelage of his father.

He worked the knots on the leather straps that held the buckskin closed then spread the flaps of the parcel flat on the grainy surface of the table. Carefully, he spread the sacred items out on top of the tanned skin. The first item he sorted was a picture of his mother, father, and siblings, shortly after Sekaya turned three. A black bird's wing took the place of honor towards the center, a gift from a tribal elder when he came of age. A dulled shard of dark obsidian to ground him, found during a trip to Mesoamerica when he was young, weighed down the skin towards one edge. He carefully handled the dried stems of some of the flowers from his mother, received at his birth. He sorted small pouches of cornmeal and Valerian to the corners of the skin. Finally, he worried a palm-sized stone from the river by his home, with a pattern, passed down for generations, etched on its surface. When Chakotay was 10, he'd personally etched the pattern into the smooth stone. All the objects had a deep significance in his life, but he'd not set sight on them since he'd left home. He found a strange but familiar comfort in them now.

As he situated the items from the bundle, he thanked the spirits and vigilantly examined each item in turn. He recited the ritualistic words that signaled his readiness for his meditative journey. Sitting comfortably, he closed his eyes, visualizing the items as he'd placed them outside of the bundle. He breathed slowly.

In.

Out.

More slowly.

In.

Out.

He took measured breaths until he was light-headed and his pulse slowed, pounding in his ears like drums. He pictured each object in minute detail for many minutes. Picturing a gurgling stream, he imagined he was a feather floating atop the water as the current swept him past trees and rocks. His stress melted from his shoulders, rushing out past his limbs and dissolving into the atmosphere around him. His muscles released as he became hyper-focused on his journey, straining for the moment he might be reunited with his animal guide.

It would not come.

Chakotay floated further down the slow-moving water, but he never met the shore where he could take to land and meet his guide. Sighing, he gathered himself back into the present where his knees were cramping from inactivity.

Reverently, he reassembled the bundle, wrapping it tightly and returning it to the drawer.

Setting the kettle to warm, he gathered the supplies to make his tea and grabbed his jacket. 

After a couple of minutes, travel mug of tea in hand, he headed into the back yard. He tugged the door open on the small shed, the rusty hinges reluctant to give way. He found the axe and checked the blade and handle before heading out to the stump in the back corner by the wood pile. 

While Chakotay was gone, Mike had picked up an extra cord of wood at an excellent price. He knew Chakotay had a fireplace, but probably hadn’t had a chance nor knew where to pick up wood in town. Since he had plenty, Mike took some of the load to Chakotay’s and tarped it up against the fence. The forecast called for temperatures dropping very low, very quickly in the next few days, so Chakotay figured he should take care of splitting the pile.

After half an hour of unrelenting work, he finished his tea and grabbed some water. He threw his shirt over the porch railing as well. It had to be close to freezing outside, but the explosion of his disquiet through manual labor had him practically steaming in the frigid air. Hefting the axe again, he set into the pile, swinging the blade as if he’d never stopped, arms banded and tensed as he arced the heavy tool into the wood.

A time later, he looked up, the entire pile of split wood neatly stacked and covered again. He gathered an armful of wood and put it in the bin by the back door for easy access.   
Once the shed was locked he stopped to look up at the sky and the waxing crescent moon. Everything was still, blurring behind his misty breath. The black of the horizon glowed blue as it spiraled towards the moon. Heavy clouds dragged low to the earth, blocking some of the light.

A small flake, cold and wet licked at his eyelashes. Its brothers and sisters quickly followed, graduating into fat swaths of snow falling soundlessly to the ground. 

By the time he noticed the cold on his bare chest a light dusting of white covered every surface around him.

That’s when he heard it. A knocking from the front of the house.

“Hello? Chakotay, are you home?” A quiet rasping voice, shivering in the cold.

It was near midnight. He didn’t want to deal with one of his neighbors or whomever it was. He chose to ignore the noise and looked back up to the sky.

He ignored the sound of the gate into the back-yard opening. He breathed the frozen air, burning his lungs.

“Chakotay!” She ran to him.

“Goodness, are you okay?”

He looked at her. Bundled in an oversized coat, fleece hat and scarf, and fuzzy gloves. She looked quite amusing- poofed out and shapeless like a toddler in the snow for the first time, packed into a snowsuit by over-protective parents. He felt a bout of inane laughter bubbling up. She looked at him, worried. 

His outburst caught her off-guard. 

“Chakotay, let’s get you inside. It’s freezing and you’re, uh, only half dressed!”

She started towards the house. He was entirely reluctant to budge. Stubborn and not completely relieved of the turbulent emotion from the last weeks.

Kathryn turned back when she realized he wasn’t coming.

“Chakotay?”

He finally turned his head to her, his eyes focusing.

“Hmm?”

“We need to go inside. I’m cold.” She walked back to him, rubbing her hands together to emphasize her argument. Maybe he would be more willing listen and go in if he thought   
she was cold.

She stopped beside him, then took one of his hands and led him back towards the front. Kathryn had never been to Chakotay’s house and all the lights in the back were out. She really didn’t know what she planned to do with the dazed man once she got him inside. She couldn’t see the back door, but trusted Chakotay when he diverted her from the path to get in the house sooner.

She kicked the snow from her boots as they stepped into the kitchen, and he flipped the light on from across the room. They both squinted under the intensity of the overhead lights.

“You never called when you got home. I thought you were delayed until Mike stopped by the shop.”

She took her outerwear off, laying it neatly on the kitchen table. 

“Here…” beckoning she held out her hands to him. He stayed seated, slouched against the back of the chair.

Taking his hands in hers, she rubbed briskly, trying to warm his skin. Her thumbs slid along his wrists and between his fingers, heating the surface of his skin. Soft. Warm. He felt safe, slowly melting in the warmth of the house.

She concentrated on one of his hands, letting the other drop to his lap. He lost himself in the feeling, in the delicious dance of her hands on his; her fingers whispered over every crevice and pore, massaging feeling into the cold-shocked appendages.

“I was worried. You didn’t call me after your father’s funeral.”

She kneeled in front of him like he had kneeled in front of her six weeks prior.

Lifting his head, her thumbs raising his chin so she could look straight into his gaze, she kissed him briefly.

“I’ll make something to help you warm up.”

Elbows on his knees, he stayed put while she opened cabinets. 

She found his kettle and tea…and his stash of whiskey. 

His tea was more whiskey than tea, but it was warm. She stuck to an unadulterated brew for herself for now. 

“Stay with me tonight, Kathryn?”

Hardly a murmur, but enough for her to hear, his plea left a sinking feeling in her stomach. How could she be happy at such an offer when he was so devastated. Perhaps his trust in her. His need for her. He needed her?

She cleared the kettle from the stove and put the tea and whiskey back into the cabinet.

He stood from his chair and Chakotay her into a tight hug, pinning her to his bare chest.

“Please?”

A small smile curled at the corners of her mouth, and she toed off her boots by the back door, then followed him through the house as he led her to his room. He brushed off her suggestion that she sleep on the couch, noting that it was half-hearted at best. 

When he went right to the bathroom, she stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed. His room, small and cozy, was minimalist and neat; the furniture all functional, but tasteful and well-loved. The bed, neatly made, was draped with multiple blankets in splendid warm tones and several soft pillows. Looking around, she spotted the small, worn bookshelf and moved closer to read the spines. 

Chakotay emerged from the bathroom in a wrinkled black t-shirt, his face scrubbed clean and his eyes shining. He opened a drawer and pulled out a clean pair of navy sweats. 

He handed her the navy set.

“Um. If you’d like something to sleep in? I dug out a spare toothbrush as well if…”

“Yes, thank you.” She took the clothing, her hands lingering when they brushed his.

Still cinching up the drawstring on the pants and fighting with the long sleeves, Kathryn came out to see Chakotay setting the alarm on the clock beside the bed. 

“Plans tomorrow?”

“I assumed you needed to go to the shop the help Gretchen?”

“I took the weekend off to be with you. Mom understands. She has the kids there to help her anyways. That is, if you don’t want time to yourself.”

He got up to help her roll the sleeves up to her wrists.

“No, that’s good. I would love it if you stayed the weekend.”

Her cheeks turned pink instantly. “Oh…I meant, um. I didn’t intend to stay at night, but…”

He bent to help her roll up the hem of the pants so she wouldn’t trip. She held his shoulders to keep her balance when he tapped her foot so she would lift it off the material. Then he turned to shut off the alarm.

“No pressure. No ulterior motives. I just missed you.” He grinned up at her, enjoying the banter, his mind easing, relaxing.

His fingers brushed along her sides as he stood up, causing her to shudder as he tickled her ribs. 

“Just sleep. I’m exhausted.”

Moving the stack of extra blankets to the dresser, he pulled back the covers on the bed then crawled in.

Kathryn went to the other side of the bed and slipped in between the sheets, sinking into the downy pillows.

For a moment, they laid in the bed, their arms warmly entwined.

“I…”

“I…”

They both started to speak. He took a slow breath and let her speak first. 

“I’m not very good at this whole relationship thing, especially when it comes to, uh.”

He turned onto his side, the light from his bedside lamp fanning out behind his shoulders and creating a halo of yellow light around his head.

“Comes to what?” His eyebrow arched up. “Like I said, we both have a past. I want us to just focus on doing what is good for us. You can practice on me any time.”

“When it comes to just about anything. Sorry.” She shifted to mirror his position, her head propped on her hand.

“You’re forgiven.”

He opened his arms to her and she snuggled into his chest, breathing deeply. He rested his chin on the top of her head, holding her tightly.

She said something, but it was muffled by his shirt.

“What was that?” Chakotay pulled back with a simper and tucked some loose hair behind her ear, resting his hand on her neck. Her pulse beat a lazy rhythm against his palm; the   
skin prickled at his touch. 

“I said, ‘This is nice,’ it’s been a long time since I’ve been this close with someone.”

“Me too.” He pulled her close again and reached behind himself to switch off the light.

 

Pulling his feet back under the blanket, Chakotay opened his eyes. He shivered as the frigid air hit his back when he turned over. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten to turn on the heat the night before. 

Last night.

He looked to the empty spot beside him, his hand wandering over to the disheveled covers. The sheets still exuded warmth.

Just then, he heard the toilet flush and the sink run for a moment. 

Kathryn, up on her toes so her feet wouldn’t touch the chilly floor, hurried back to the bed, quickly burying herself in the blankets. 

“Good morning.”

“Morning, Chakotay.” Her smile radiated brighter than the early sun.

She burrowed into the warmth closer to him, her icy feet digging into the blankets and settling against his legs. Bringing her arms around his chest, she pressed her hands flat against his back, his body heat seeping into her limbs.

Chakotay trapped her arms under his and took the opportunity to kiss her thoroughly. He nuzzled her hair as he dropped feathery kisses on her forehead, nose, and cheeks. When she sighed and closed her eyes, leaning her head down on the pillow, he pressed his mouth to her eyelids and finally to her parted lips. 

“Coffee?” She whispered against his cheek a moment later.

“Do you ever think of anything else?”

“You!” She pulled away, realizing what she’d just admitted.

Kissing her again, he got out of bed and found his slippers and dug an extra pair of socks out for her.

“Luckily, you can have both!”

 

They sat down on the couch in the living room, drinking coffee and splitting a plate of toast and cut apples sprinkled with cinnamon. 

“So how are you, Chakotay?” She paused. “I mean, generally I know, your trip wasn’t really under the best of circumstances. How are you holding up?”

He chewed slowly then took a long draught from his mug.

“As well as can be expected. I kind of prepared myself for it, as much as anyone ever can. Though it doesn’t make it any better to know it’s coming, as much as I tried to tell myself that.”

Kathryn nodded.

“I’m glad for the closure and that we were on good terms again. I don’t know if it’s really hit me though. I feel like I should hurt more. I feel like I’m awful for not crying or something…more.”

“We all mourn differently.”

“I know.” 

Remembering that he hadn’t turned on the heat, he excused himself to the kitchen to adjust the thermostat and put their dishes in the sink. 

When he returned, he changed the topic of conversation, avoiding the subject he’d yet to escape for more than minutes in the last few weeks.

“So, do you have any plans for today?”

“I haven’t thought much farther than you, food, and just relaxing. Though, I do need to get the car to the shop so Mom can use it this afternoon.”

“The car? You drove here last night?”

He leaned towards the window behind the couch and used his hand to wipe away the frosty build-up on the inside of the pane. Parked in his driveway was the blue sedan covered   
in snow, right next to his truck.

“It was late. I was worried. Also, it’s quite cold.” She gestured to the snow scape outside. “What would you like to do today?”

“Pie?” He looked so hopeful.

“I’m sure our local pie matron would be happy to see you.”

“Even though I kept her daughter all night?”

“I’m sure, especially because you kept me out all night. Oh, the gossip, such a scandal.” Her hand covered her mouth as if she spoke of an illicit affair, miming outrage and awe.   
She couldn’t hide her smile though. 

“She doesn’t bake the handsome ones into her pies, you’ll definitely be safe.” Mussed and vibrant, she really was a sight. 

He chuckled and moved to get up again.

“How about you head home and get changed and whatnot and I’ll shower and get ready, then we can meet there. After, we can come back here or do whatever we decide on?”

“Sure. Um, let me get changed back into my clothes first, then meet, say, at ten?”

“It’s a date.” He lost himself when he leaned to kiss her, drowning as he gasped for tiny breaths, unwilling to break their connection. 

She tugged him back down onto the couch with her.

Small sounds came, unbidden, from the back of her throat. She pressed against him, shifting into his lap, raising on her knees and straddling his hips. Her head hovered above his and she played with the hair at his nape as he tilted his head back against the couch.

Withdrawing for a moment for breath, he gasped when she shimmied against him. 

“10:30?”

“Mmmm.”


	10. Chapter 10

Tuesdays seemed like the hardest day every week. They were worse than Mondays, at least Chakotay thought so. This was especially so when winter break loomed only a fortnight away. 

Chakotay finally figured out why he hated Tuesdays. The day was always an ethereal in between; it functioned as a useless space-holder in the week- not a Monday, so regularly dreaded by many, and not a Wednesday, the half-way marker that signaled just a little more push until the freedom of the weekend. Tuesdays gave one very little excitement or anything to look forward to. He like Mondays. The day offered a change from the weekend. The divergence from the weekend allowed him to appreciate it even more. He got to see his students on Mondays. He started fresh, usually with a win from the team starting the week excitedly as everyone relived their glory from Friday night. He enjoyed the variation in scenery, almost a novelty after being away for a couple of days.

Tuesdays brought exhaustion from Monday. The week stretched before him, a mountain to climb until he could spend his long weekend hours in more pleasurable pursuits.   
Weekends meant tasty food, work on the house, and wood work or painting. Weekends meant Kathryn. Today seemed especially daunting because he knew she wouldn’t stop by his office or his classroom, smiling shyly, whispering his name as she sneaked in to have lunch with him. Instead, she was probably at home, tucked into bed, adding to an impressive mountain of tissues and grading papers when she should be sleeping. 

Chakotay had the immune system of a horse, so he never caught whatever plagued the school any given week. On the other hand, Kathryn caught just about everything, but she rarely succumbed nor admitted to the weakness that she called “sick.” 

“Mind over matter!” She’d insisted when he drove her home the previous afternoon. After she’d sneezed, projecting a glob of nebulous goop into her sleeve, she turned to him, eyes red-rimmed, skin flushed in the cold of the truck, and knew that she had been defeated. He took her inside and against protests, tucked her in, brought her tissues, and sat   
with her. They put together a packet of substitute plans for the next day. She called her one of her regular subs and Mr. Tuvok to arrange for a sick day.

“You know, it’s more work to be sick than to just go in and deal with it.”

“Yes, but your sneezes could be classified as a weapon at this point. I need some of those kids for wrestling. I also want you to get better faster. Just one day?”

“Only one.”

He knew he couldn’t keep her home any longer than that anyway- not if he didn’t tie her down. And he’d rather save tying her to anything for much healthier circumstances.

So here he sat, sullenly shuffling through history essays, sighing every couple of minutes while he daydreamed his way through his planning period.

A loud rapping on his door brought his mind back to the classroom. A girl, tall, blond and pretty in a homely way, bounced in and went to Chakotay. Ann? Her name was something he could never remember quite right. Annika. Annie. That was it. 

“Coach Walker!”

“Annie, what can I do for you?”

“The activities council is still looking for chaperones for the winter dance. Mr. Paris and Ms. Torres had to cancel last minute and we really need another faculty member to help.   
We’d be forever grateful. No decorating or anything. Just dress nice and come and have a good night?”

“Who else do you have coming so far?”

He really didn’t want to get wrangled into chaperoning again, but he thought a dance might be fun. He’d never really attended any of the events when he’d been in school. Though dressing up was also quite unappealing.

“Mr. R and his wife, Mrs. Wildman and her husband, Miss J, Principal Tuvok, and I think a few people from the PTA…Gerron’s dad and Angie’s aunt at least.”

Miss J. Kathryn had volunteered, of course. Perhaps he would have to go, if anything to give her a dance partner besides Ray. He’d barely seen her in the last couple of weeks since they’d spent the weekend together. The dance might give them a chance to catch up, even though they had to keep up appearances and maintain a distance in front of the students.

“Sure. Do I need to be there early at all?”

“Six is fine. Thank you so much Coach! This will be great!”

Annie skipped out of the room, pleased with herself that she’d finally talked another faculty member into dance duty.

 

To his dismay, Chakotay’s dress pants were too snug. The colder weather meant he’d been walking to school less. The end of the football season also meant significantly less physical activity as well. Likewise, as much as he loved Kathryn, she plied him with the literal fuel for his apparent weight gain.

Wait.

Love?

He loved her.

When did he start thinking that?

When had she snared his heart so thoroughly?

They hadn’t talked about love. They hadn’t even indulged in sex, not completely anyways. Or past relationships. Or their future. Kids. Marriage. Money. Yet, he knew he wanted to spend forever with her. They had learned about each other’s dreams, passions, family, desires, hopes, fears…

Chakotay stood in his bathroom, the mirror reflecting harshly back at him, pants low on his hips unbuttoned, and the zipper inching down slowly on its own. With a frown, he ran his hands over his stomach, still fairly flat, but a bit softer than it had been in the summer. He poked, grimacing at his sides curving out above his hips padding him where there’d been much sleeker lines before. 

Sighing, he let his pants fall, a pool of stiff black on the cold beige tile. Looking at his bare body, he turned slowly to see if there were other changes.

_I guess it isn’t really that bad yet. I haven’t worn these pants for years. But still…_

He started the flow in the shower and stepped in gingerly. Carefully, he washed every inch of skin with his favorite soap, filling the steamy bathroom with the scent of coconut and sandalwood. 

When he got out, he wiped the mirror hastily and opened his shaving kit. Lathering the rich foam over his stubble, he grabbed the new blade from his bag and wet it before meticulously shaving until his skin was smooth and pinkened. 

It was decided. He’d concede to the pants in this case, but if his jacket didn’t fit, he’d be utterly disappointed in himself. He knew he had a pair of regular black slacks that would have to do. 

 

He pulled up to the school a little before six. Even though the dance didn’t officially begin until 6:30, at least twenty teens were already lined up in front of the school in formal dress taking pictures with disposable cameras. One couple poorly disguised their groping behind a bench around the corner. 

Chakotay parked the truck and checked his tie in his side mirror once before heading to the back doors.

The gym, he found, was in quite a state. Since he’d left a couple hours ago, the floor had become inundated with silver and white balloons. The walls had been plastered with shimmering snowflakes and the windows were sprayed with fake frost and snow. Pendulous paper lanterns glowed with icicle lights suspended from the ceiling.

Annie ran towards him as fast as she could in a tight mermaid-style dress, looking wholly uncomfortable and…waddly? The red stood in contrast to the cool surroundings and the slinky neckline left little to the imagination. 

He rolled his eyes and turned, pasting a smile onto his face.

“Coach! I know I said you didn’t...”

“What did you need help with?” He cut her off kindly, having expected a few tasks anyway.

“Miss Janeway needs help with the punch. Jackson hasn’t shown up, so we’re behind on refreshments. Please?”

“Where?” His eyes softened, the smile returning, brighter. 

“The teachers’ lounge.” Her red lips quirked and she winked at him, shooing him off.

Maybe they knew, even though he and Kathryn had been discreet. If they didn’t know, they seemed to at least hope for or support the idea. She’d been worried that their relationship might change the students’ perspectives on them, perhaps view them as less professional. Primarily, she was worried that a relationship might overshadow the air of independence that she projected as a strong leader in the school, district and community at large. He’d insisted that Tom and Lanna had a relationship and it didn’t negatively or otherwise reflect on either’s career performance or social standing, though they weren’t quite as prominent in the community. It was other decisions they made that seemed questionable. After two months of their relationship, she was finally warming up to the idea of a more public association, and perhaps this was the push she was waiting for.

As he walked to the lounge, Chakotay took his suit jacket off and unbuttoned his cuffs, rolling the crisp white sleeves so he wouldn’t get them dirty.

He stopped in his tracks, the door closing into his shoulder. 

Staring. 

Gaping. 

Gasping. 

Spinning.

There she stood, back to him as she worked at the counter by the refrigerator. Her slender curves melted from the lace trim of her bodice to the floor, draped in shimmering silver satin. The material fell smoothly, iridescent and rippling with her every movement under the florescent lights. She stood bare-foot, mixing orange liquid in the bowel. As she stirred the concoction her hair swayed, caressing the narrowest part of her waist. He rarely saw her hair down. The cascading auburn flowed exquisitely down her back in waves; silver combs manipulating it into submission were elegant, simple, very Kathryn. 

Chakotay moved to the side so the door could close. He quietly walked up behind his love and put his hands on her hips, waiting just a moment for her to put the spoon down,   
then turning her toward him. 

“I was wondering if you were going to stand there all night or come help.”

She put her arms about his neck and raised on tiptoes towards him. He bowed his head to meet her, kissing her lips lightly, then pulling back, releasing her so he could drink in the sight of her once more. The front of the gown she wore draped in ample folds from her shoulders, crossing to wrap her torso, and cinch at her hips. A second lacey under-layer lined the top of the dress, preserving her modesty, the cream color only a shade darker than her skin. The silver and cream complimented her skin tone and emphasized the stunning cerulean of her eyes. Sterling studs in her ears matched a thin necklace with a single sapphire twined in the twisted arms of the pendant.

Simply breathtaking.

“You sure clean up well, Chakotay. Though the drooling doesn’t suit you.” She gently lifted his chin with her finger, closing his mouth.

Her gaze burned into his skin as she raked her eyes from his polished shoes to the stiff collar of his shirt. 

Fantastically handsome. 

She breathed deep as she leaned closer into him again, enjoying the mellow aftershave still lingering on his velvety skin.

Hearing students walking in the hallways, they pulled from each other, noting it was time for the dance to start. 

“Shall we?” She gestured towards the deep bowls of liquid.

They each took one of the large containers of punch and headed towards the gym.

After situating the bowls on the refreshments table, Kathryn turned to leave the gym again.

“Aren’t you staying?” Chakotay caught up to her.

“Yes, but I left my shoes in the lounge. It couldn’t do to trip over those strappy abominations carrying two gallons of food coloring and sugar.”

“Ah. Well everyone else is here already, they could probably spare me for a minute as I accompany you.” He grinned and followed her out and halfway across the school again.

As soon as the door knocked closed against the jamb, Chakotay let out the breath he’d been holding as he walked behind her down the hallway.

Kathryn bent down behind the counter, disappearing for a moment while she retrieved her shoes. She walked over to one of the chairs and sat down to put the impressive heels on. He walked over to her, waiting patiently. When she stood, he took her into his arms and pulled her to him, his hands holding her tightly. She gripped his shoulders as she let out a tiny sound of surprise before relaxing and fitting her body perfectly to his. She walked forward, backing him into the wall, her hands finding purchase on either side of his head, fiercely securing her lips to his. 

Pushing up on the balls of her feet, she pressed him into the wall, a leg insinuating itself between his, sliding in its sheath of satin and lace.

Chakotay found he didn’t quite know what to do with his hands, shocked by the unusual aggression in her actions. 

Her hands found their way into his silky, short hair, thumbs massaging the thin skin behind his ears. She drank him in like he was a fountain of life. She clung to him desperately, all sighs and delicious pressure. 

From across the room, they heard a loud rumble as somebody cleared his throat with a cough. 

“Miss Janeway, Mr. Walker, I believe you are supposed to be in the gym at this time.”

Principal Tuvok stood just inside the door, blocking the view from the hallway, but Chakotay thought he heard a teenaged giggle from around the corner. 

Kathryn pulled away and smoothed her hands down her hips to adjust her dress ever so slightly. Then she reached up to Chakotay’s wrist and began to fix his cuffs, avoiding his gaze and leaving her back to her boss. 

“We’ll be right there. Miss Janeway was just helping me with my attire.” Chakotay nodded towards the dark man, glad that his breathing was finally normal.

“Indeed.” The man made an about-face and headed for the gym again, trusting that the two teachers would follow promptly. 

Chakotay let Kathryn leave first. He stopped by the bathrooms to throw chilly water on his face, then he followed her into the dance where the music boomed and hormones heated the air as dozens of bodies crowded onto the courts. 

Most of the evening the chaperones wandered the borders of the gym, making sure their charges behaved. Occasionally they had to reprimand a handsy couple or clean up some spill or trash, but the dance went swimmingly. 

Towards the end of the night, as the teens wandered more towards the refreshments and rest on the bleachers, Chakotay found himself enjoying a brief dance each with Sam as well as Misha’s wife Rona. He noted Kathryn had obligingly shared a dance with Misha and Greg, Sam’s husband. Eventually, he found Kathryn in his arms again waltzing slowly to a mesmerizing song. She seemed almost asleep on her feet, her head buried in his neck. 

After the last song, they all saw the kids out of the building and home before it got too late. Ray offered to lock the doors and ushered Chakotay and Kathryn out. They headed to the back parking lot. He noticed that Kathryn hadn’t driven. He felt her shiver through their entwined hands. She wore a long wool pea coat over her dress, but her teeth still chattered after only a few moments in the December air. 

Without a thought, he removed his outer jacket and situated it over her shoulders, pulling her closer against his side. 

He led them to his truck, unlocking her door first and lending her a hand as she climbed into the seat.

“Did you have a good night?” He turned the engine on and waited a moment before turning the heater up. 

“Oh yes. It’s always nice seeing the students having so much fun. It’s tiring though. Up until ten on a school night!” She laughed, her breath visible.

“At least tell me you didn’t suffer through walking here in this weather in those clothes.” He swung his arm onto the back of the seat as he turned to look back as he pulled out of the parking space.

“Oh, no. Sam and Greg dropped by the house on their way. My mom is watching their kiddos for the night.” She paused to think.

“Speaking of…”

“Hm?”

“Since she has the kids over tonight…”

“Would you like to come over to my place for the night? Get some peace?”

Kathryn smiled, happy that he knew what she wanted. 

“Only if I can stop by home and get a change of clothes. I don’t think I want to teach in this tomorrow.” She gestured to her dress.

“Or that pair of sweats.”

“But you look good in both.”

“Chakotay!”

“I’m a bit biased, I’ll admit. But, we’ll stop by.”

He turned on her street, shutting off his headlights as he pulled into the drive of the darkened house. 

A light went on in her bedroom and he watched her silhouette play across the blinds as she moved about gathering items. Looking up, he saw Gretchen peeking out of her window. She caught his gaze and winked at him, much as Annie had earlier. A moment later she disappeared into the darkness.

Kathryn locked the front door and hurried, shoeless, back to the truck. A small duffle thumped into the bed.

Breathless, she pulled the door closed silently and rubbed her palms together. 

“What exactly do you have against footwear, woman? You’re going to lose your toes to the cold!”

She shrugged. 

“I’ve never worn them if I didn’t have to, especially when they’re that uncomfortable.”

“I never understood why women torture themselves with those awful things.”

“Heels?”

“Anything strappy, heeled, or otherwise unreasonable.”

“Because we can. We look good in them, obviously. Plus, we’re gluttons for punishment. Generations of mothers have passed down the secret mystical power of the stiletto and its cousins. It helps us move above our corporeal body and reach a higher plane of existence as we self-flagellate in a lifetime pursuit of a higher knowledge beyond the pain of our bodies. Also, I’m about as tall as a pre-teen without them.”

“Ah, so that’s why us lowly men are always wrong?”

“Precisely. You don’t wear the right shoes.”

“Sounds like a reasonable theory.”

He held his hand out to her and she took it, holding their hands in her lap.

“Of course it does.”

The rest of the short drive passed quietly. Snow began to fall in earnest, just as Chakotay pulled up to his house.

When he got out of the truck he rushed over to Kathryn’s side, opening the door for her. She slid down to the ground and reached for her bag. Once it was over her shoulder,   
Chakotay closed the door and swept her off the ground into his arms.

She giggled, squirming in his arms.

“I can’t let you go home missing any toes because you were walking barefoot in 20° weather! Gretchen would murder me in my sleep!”

Knee against the house supporting her, he fished the keys from his pocket and handed the keyring to Kathryn so she could unlock the door. 

He carried her over the threshold and straight to the couch, setting her down. As he took her bag to the bathroom, she stood and took off both coats. 

When Chakotay came back into the room, he found Kathryn manipulating the combs in her hair, pulling them loose and setting them on the coffee table. She looked up at him and   
licked her lips, dragging her tongue across the stained rouge of her lipstick. 

“Now, where were we?” She whispered.

He strode to her, backing her against the front door and claiming her mouth with his. Snaking his hand behind her, he locked the deadbolt on the door, then cradled her head in his palm so she wouldn’t hurt herself. 

“Turnabout is fair play.” He breathed, then pushed harder against her. Mimicking her actions in the lounge, he pressed one of his legs between hers, the satin pulling tight between them.

He could feel her pulse in her neck as he sucked on the delicate skin, trailing his free hand down her arm to rest just above the rise of her hip. 

“Can’t move.” She mumbled into his hair, chest heaving as she sucked in air when he moved his mouth lower, nosing the lace away.

He pushed harder and raised to kiss her mouth again. 

Kathryn thrust the suit jacket from his shoulders and clawed at his shirt, not quite sure where she could find purchase. 

Chakotay turned them around, backing against the door. His hand lowered from her neck to the top fastener of her dress. His eyes static with hers, he unclasped each button and   
eased the zipper all the way down to the swell at the bottom of her spine. The fingers lingered before worming beneath the fabric. She shivered and released him so she could let the straps drift from her shoulders, the entire dress dropping at their feet. She kicked it away and pressed against him again. Her legs raised one at a time to wrap around him and he reversed them again, nipping at her shoulders. 

“I love you.” It slipped out before he could control it, her hips undulating against his and her hands burrowing under his waistband. 

“Ditto.” She was too breathless to acknowledge more.

She squeezed him, ankles locked against his ass, trapping him in her grasp.

His tongue found its way to her soft skin, dragging lazily along the surface, leaving winding trails that quivered as they cooled in the air of the room. He dipped his head down to trace the raised bumps of her skin to one of her breasts where he could admire the pale, round handfuls beneath the thin material holding them in place. She arched away from the door, pushing her flesh further into his mouth, sighing and needy.

Her chest heaved, strangled sounds emanating from her throat, rumbling through her body as she strained against him, a hand anchored on his scalp gripping his hair. Finally, she’d unbuttoned his shirt and pushed his pants away from his waist. Her toes tickled the hairs on his legs as she used her feet to push his pants to his ankles.

He felt the moisture between her legs as she pushed away from the door, her hips slamming into his. 

This was too fast, but it felt perfect.

Hands holding her tightly to him as he kissed her again, Chakotay backed away and kneeled against the edge of the couch, letting Kathryn fall, cradled in the cushions. She pushed on the back of his head with her wrists, sealing their mouths together as she drank him in so deeply, he wasn’t sure anymore whether they shared their breathing all the time or not. Fingers stumbled along her sides, feeling the curves and sharp edges, sliding along the silky surface of her skin, aiming for the warmest part of her, glued to him and pulsing gently as her muscles contracted, straining to hold her against him as fully as possible. One of her hands snaked down between them, nails scraping the surface of his groin and wriggling into the waistband of his briefs then pushing them down out of the way. 

Running his own hands down her back, thumbs digging into the shallow spaces between her ribs, skimming the hollows of her hips, he circled his right hand underneath her, lifting until he could pull her panties away from her to her knees. She raised her legs slowly, knees coming up on either side of him. His erection caught on the silky material of her underwear, inching it down until her heels kicked it away. 

Surrounding him with her limbs, she ground up into him. He couldn’t get enough of her. The smell of her sweat a sweet tang in his nostrils. The sound of her desperation pinged his ears, urging him on. He pushed into her with his hands, harder than necessary, but he was afraid he’d miss a millimeter of skin if he touched softly. Soft could be later. Now was for need.

As her fingers surrounded him, pumping gently, he waded into her heat, thick digits sure and steady, exploring the delicate folds. Quickly, he sunk a finger, then moments later another, into the pliant tissues, then he used his free hand to uncross her ankles behind him. Her legs fell splayed, lax and shivering, wide to his manipulations. He nipped and kissed lovingly, hand pumping faster into her depths, enjoying the uncontrollable push of her hips as she squirmed under his assault. At last, his lips came to the beautiful junction of her thighs. Nuzzling, breathing deep as he descended, diving into the experience of the rawest Kathryn, he slowed his hand to a maddeningly unhurried rhythm, just to frustrate her. 

Opening his mouth, he ran his tongue, flat and heavy, along the length of her, making her hips jerked to the side, over stimulated after so long without a lover. He felt her hands pulling on his head, beckoning him back up to her, but he resisted, instead gently taking her hands in his and pinning them to her stomach, caged in the fingers his left hand. He resumed the actions of his fingers and the slide of his tongue. He tasted the tang of her, like fresh sourdough and smooth hints of sweet and the tingle of salt when it met the roof of his mouth. Sucking and biting, he indulged in every crease and burrow, sampling her until her husky moans ran together and she begged him to put her out of her misery. 

He released her hands from her belly and crawled up to kiss her again, alternating between her delicious throat and swollen lips. She met his eyes, half lidded, smiling when he lifted her legs to twine behind his back and pulled her hips against him. In moments, he was poised at her entrance, nudging in just an inch, then more, and he slid home. Her breathing caught and she bit her lip, stifling more emphatic noises. She brought her hands around to grasp his hips as she slammed up to meet his thrusts. 

“Oh, God.” Kathryn moaned into Chakotay’s neck, sinking her teeth into the soft part of his shoulder. He pulled from her, the cold of the air shocking his sensitive skin. 

Carefully, he stood from the couch, pulling her with him. She pawed at him desperately, the loss of contact too much as he tried to navigate to one of the bedrooms. The couch wasn’t big enough and he couldn’t get the right leverage. He needed more. He wanted to push so far inside of her that her could feel her heart beat through his loins. He wanted to imbed under her skin over and again until she couldn’t think straight. 

She succeeded in knocking him down to the floor on top of the rug, only a few feet from the couch. She fell on top of him in a clumsy amalgamation of limbs, eventually mounting him as she held his hands to his chest. He planted his feet flat, the tops of his thighs moving up behind her as he thrust. He used their connected hands to push her back to lean against his legs as she circled her hips. She let her head fall back as she gasped for breath, her hair brushing across his knees and the tops of his feet. Her motions kept him deep within her as she ground against him. He tilted his head to look down between them, watching as she lifted then pushed down on him. He drew one of his hands from hers and slipped it to where they joined. Gathering some of the fluid, he moved nimble fingers against her. She sped her pace, mewling between frantic breaths.

He faltered in his rhythm, swelling painfully before every muscle in his body released with a flourish, hips jerking and thrusting beyond his control. Her cries became frantic as she stopped moving, his fists riveting their groins together as he anchored himself with her thighs. He felt her shudder as he spilled into her in forceful waves. 

“Chakotay!” She proclaimed as she moaned, her walls squeezing him. The strength of the pulses resonated to his hand as he continued to stimulate her nerve centers. When she collapsed on top of him, her heart beat through his chest. She clung to him, boneless. He kept his legs up and nestled against her backside, prolonging his time inside her. She cuddled close to him, her nose buried in his neck, back still heaving as she caught her breath.

One of them, minutes later, thought it would be good to get a glass of water then head to bed.

They never made it past the kitchen during the night.

The next morning, he woke up, her weight on top of him, body avoiding the icy floor and their jackets pulled over them in place of blankets. 

This would be a rough Friday, but he had the whole weekend to look forward to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was my first time writing an E scene. Hopefully I didn't completely botch it. It's been something I've wanted to dabble in forever, but I haven't had a story to put it in!


	11. Chapter 11

He awoke on his side, pleasantly warm, cocooned in the oversized lavender quilt and curled behind a brilliantly gorgeous woman. The worn cotton shifted across his shoulders as Kathryn turned in her sleep. Chakotay laughed to himself. Every morning before she woke up, she turned to her front and breathed deeply, her chin against her shoulder and an arm blocking any light from her eyes. She’d wake up in about five minutes, Jonesing for her caffeine fix, though she could be persuaded to stay in bed a smidge longer if his hands had anything to do with it. He’d never enjoyed a winter break quite this much.

Wriggling an arm free of the heavy material, Chakotay reached over to brush Kathryn’s hair from her face. She always had this little smile in the mornings as her body released her from her dreams and back to him for the day. When he leaned in to kiss her shoulder, the blanket slid down revealing her naked back. His touch irritatingly light, not really a touch at all, traced the raised scars along her ribs and spine. His hand mapped the raised skin, the faded red indentations, and the pale freckles, all with equal reverence. Sometimes he pictured what it would have looked like right after her accident. She’d told him of the surgeries, of the hardware, of the skin grafts. His hand stopped at the edge of one of the tangles in her skin, imagining everything she’d overcome. 

It had been the second night of break when she told him more about the accident. They’d acquired all their provisions and settled into her house while her mom was away visiting Phoebe and family. They hadn’t planned to leave if they didn’t have to, rather they’d hoped to spend the next week in seclusion with each other, sleeping, eating, making love, and anything that made them happy. She’d told him that she didn’t really remember the accident or even the month that followed. She only knew what happened from police and medical reports and her mother. 

_“It is when I came back here you know. Phe, well you know how she feels. She was mourning a child that my husband had killed. She couldn’t take care of me. Mom brought me home and took care of me. Drove me to all the appointments, waited on me, cleaned me. I was her grown daughter, but no better than a newborn for a long time.”_

He walked his fingers down to the lowest valley in her spine, drifting sensitive fingertips over the thick keloid.

_“They said I lived because I didn’t have my belt on. I went through the windshield though.”_

She sighed when he kissed her shoulder again and Chakotay moved his hand back up to her shoulders.

_“I tried to shout a warning before it happened. I only knew moments before. It was so fast. But Justin was too messed up to react. He’d popped a pill before we’d left the house. I didn’t realize. And his water bottle wasn’t just water. He was always kind of goofy. I didn’t know he wasn’t sober. I should have. He plowed down that other car and sent us flying over the median, spinning to a stop in the oncoming lanes. Then three other vehicles pinged it before everything stopped. When the car was in the air they said I flew out. I impacted and slid quite a ways. The cement and gravel ate through my clothes and shredded most of my skin.”_

Her head turned, her nose brushing his chest as she snuggled down.

_“On impact, I’d protected my head at least. When I hit the ground my left side took most of the impact before I slid in on my back.”_

He traced the constellations along the expanse of skin in the same path she’d taken when she told him what the markings were. She’d been self-conscious of her body since the crash, that’s why she’d been so reluctant to socialize or date much. Most of the people in town hadn’t even seen her until she was recovered. They didn’t know the full story behind the crash nor many details. She was an insanely private woman, so she didn’t share this with everyone. 

_“They said I looked like some kind of science experiment. There were metal rods everywhere, inside and out. They kept my skin all mucked up so it would take the grafts, but then they’d have to keep on cutting to take out hardware or adjust something that wasn’t healing. It was a blur of agony for months. I thought it would get better, but then came physical therapy. I was lucky that the impact hadn’t caused a permanent spinal cord injury. I mean I get sore and I still don’t move quite right sometimes…but they called it a miracle that I survived the crash, let alone that I would recover so well.”_

She was his own bionic woman, he mused. A few spots under her skin had less give and odd corners. He caressed the subtle irregularities, palm tickling her wrist as his fingers weaved into hers.

“I broke my femur. Fractured my pelvis and damaged quite a few vertebrae when I was thrown from the car. When I hit the ground, I snapped the bones in my left arm when my head smacked into it. My collar bone broke in three places and the shoulder blade fractured as well. My ribs cracked, but none broke. I have flashes of looking into the sky.” She was silent as she reached into her memory to pull out something coherent she could describe. “They say I was just curled up into myself, I’d pulled myself together before I passed out. I remember holding on to something. I thought, in my muddled brain, that I was hugging my niece to comfort her. I thought I was talking to her and telling her it was okay. The people who were at the scene said I was just screaming incoherently and grabbing at my own knees.”

She told him she didn’t even know she’d survived until a month later, when she came-to from nightmares of bright lights and pain and the smell of thousands of pennies drenched in iodine. When she asked for Justin and her niece they told her of their funerals, and assured her that they hadn’t suffered. Later, she asked about any others who’d been in the pile up and found out that a motorcyclist had been decapitated with the impact and one of the other motorists was still comatose, but the rest of the people involved had practically walked away from the ordeal. She’d since read the police reports from the incident.

Kathryn hummed happily, squeezing his fingers as her eyes fought to open.

“Merry Christmas, love.” He kissed her hair and turned her in his arms, pulling her chest against his. 

“It sure is.” Her hands sneaked across his back, shoulders, neck, and pressed his head down, latching onto his lips with hers. She uttered a sleepy protest when he pulled away.

“Come on. We should get up! I have a surprise for you!” 

“But it’s early, and mom comes back tomorrow. Do we really need to leave bed at all?”

He tickled the sensitive skin along her ribs and stomach until she fought at him, panting, pushing back and away towards the edge of the bed, before falling out and taking the quilt and sheets with her.

Peeking over the bed, he chortled, digging in the linens to find his snarled Kathryn, punching at the covers like confused cat.

“That’s one way to get out of bed. And don’t worry, we have a lot of time for naps today.”

Chakotay swung out of bed as she started to crawl out of the pile. He swatted at her rear and left the room.  
Kathryn joined him in the kitchen a few minutes later, hair braided again and face freshly washed. Her silky robe held closed by the loosest of knotted belts. She handed his robe to him. 

“You might give the neighbors a scare if you don’t cover that up.” She gestured downwards with the tie to her own robe. 

“Are you saying my nudity is scary?”

“Overly majestic and sexy, actually. So much so that nosey Bernice, who is staring at us right now, might overload if she is exposed for too long.” Kathryn looked through the glass sliding door and waved at the shifting curtains of the house across the alley. 

He set the coffee to brew then turned swiftly to pin Kathryn to the table in plain sight of the neighbor. The hand of his exposed side stole into her robe as he ground against her. His other hand supported her head as he kissed her breathless.

She started to slide down, knees weakening, then he pulled back and closed the shades across the back door to block the show. He guided Kathryn’s descent into a chair, then returned to the cabinets for breakfast.

When they finished their meal and a couple cups of warm drink, she picked up the plates and left them in the sink. Chakotay put his robe on, but took the belt from the loops and came up behind Kathryn. He tied the soft material about her head, blindfolding her.

“Well then, maybe we don’t have to go back to bed Coach Walker.” She turned to him, smiling blindly, her hands seeking out his chest.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“It’s a surprise!”

“Oh, Chakotay, I can’t stand surprises. The curiosity drives me crazy!”

“What do you think it is, Kathryn.”

“A pony?” She laughed and stumbled with him as he backed out of the kitchen.

“Nope.” He shook his head when she huffed.

He took her to the spare room and sat her on the bed while he opened the curtains to let the natural light in. 

“We’ve already done it in here.”

“Oh my, Miss Janeway, quite forward aren’t we?”

He dug into the closet for the box he’d hidden when he first came over for break.

Opening the old shoe box, he pulled out a neatly wrapped package with a purple bow and silvery wrapping. Setting the parcel in her lap he kneeled beside her, kissing her hands as they felt the outside of the box.

“If you were just going to give me a box, why am I blindfolded?”

He guided her hands to the knot in the bow and helped her untie it, the wrapping and bow falling away from the box as soon as it was released. She felt the rough texture of the cardboard and slid her fingers into the flaps, opening the gift. Guiding her hands again, he plunged them into the soft packing material, searching for the delicate object.

“Because I want you to completely experience your present.” He squeezed her hands gently in his when they found the object, drawing it out into the open. 

Kathryn took care to let the packing material sift between her fingers and Chakotay brushed the refuse from her lap and moved the box to the bed by her hip. He rested his hands on her thighs as she explored the figure with the pads of her fingers, rotating the wood in her palms.

She swept her thumbs over the head and feet, over the intricate feathers. 

“It’s beautiful Chakotay. What is it?”

He reached up and lifted the blindfold so she could see the eagle.

“Did you make this?” She gasped, holding the figure closer to her face, examining the intricate detail. 

He nodded, flashing her a dimpled grin.

“He represents protection, focus, and wisdom. Love.”

Her eyes filled and she dropped beside him to throw her arms around him, holding tightly.

“It’s the best thing anyone’s ever given me.”

She stood, clutching the carving to her chest, and pulled Chakotay up with her. Once she put the eagle on her bed table, she led him to the living room to sit on the couch, then rushed upstairs to get something from her mother’s room.

“We haven’t done it there!” Chakotay shouted up to her.

“Cad!” She replied, projecting her voice from the landing.

Rushing back down with a white box and another wrapped gift, she settled next to him again. 

Pushing the plain white present into his lap, she encouraged him to open it.

“Mom did it mostly, so it’s from her. But, she thought you might like your own blanket for the house, or here so you have your own.”

He pulled the quilt from the box. The plush cotton flowed in circles of cool colors, pinwheeling the blanket and swirling at the edges in tighter curls.

“It’s excellent. Perfect.” 

He set the box aside as she moved the other gift in front of him.

“And this is from me.”

Peeling the paper from the edges, he uncovered a hand-knit sweater painstakingly constructed with soft yarn in his favorite colors.

“Oh, Kathryn, this is…I don’t even know what to say. More perfection.”

He hauled her to him, wrapping her tightly in his arms, his heart full to bursting.

“I love you, so much.”

Kissing his shoulder beneath his loose robe, she whispered words of love back to him, then sat back on the couch. 

“I love you more.” Her mouth found his again.

“I love you most.” He insisted, his hands brushing through her hair.

“I love you mostest.” Sugary sweet, her words surrounded him in honey.

“That’s not even a word.” She could feel him smile against her neck while she kissed behind his ear.

“It is. I made it just for you.” Punctuated with a puff of laughter, she backed away and looked deep into his eyes.

“Let’s go outside.”

“Why in the world would you want to go out in all that snow when I had to practically drag you out of bed?”

“When’s the last time you played in the snow? Do they even get snow in California?”

“Where I’m from, yes. But it’s been a long while. I guess it just seems kind of silly as an adult.”

“Come be silly with me?” Her eyes shined. Hopping up, she headed for her bedroom to get dressed, detouring to pick up more coffee on her way.

He groaned and followed her. 

Little did he know that playing in the snow meant that they’d be battling with snowballs and tricking one another so they could shove ice under clothes, just to hear their victim squeal. 

Spent, they dropped backwards to the ground and pushed their limbs back and forth to make angelic imprints in the deep powder. 

After, they shared a warm shower and changed into dry clothes.

Chakotay started lunch, warming some of the vegetable stew from the freezer in a pot and slicing the cheddar for grilled cheese.

Still pulling a brush through her hair, Kathryn sauntered into the kitchen.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go with me tomorrow?” he asked without looking up from the cutting board.

“Wouldn’t I be in the way?”

“Of course not. You know more about the school than I do. I’m probably going to be the one in the way! And besides, Elenia will love you.”

He finished and put the dirty utensils in the sink, running water to rinse them.

“It’s been years since I graduated, I’m sure the campus is completely different.” She helped him pull down plates and bowls for the food.

“It also means you’ll get to keep me company during the car ride.”

“You mean I’ll be a captive audience?”

“Why not?” 

“I suppose I could keep you company.”

“We could always take extra time on our way back. Maybe spend New Year’s Eve in Kansas City after we take my cousin to the airport?”

“Oh, well if you put it that way, I’m in.” Taking the wooden spoon, she stirred the soup while he flipped the sandwiches.

“And, we’ll get back in time to have a few days to get everything ready for the new semester.” 

They’d neglected working on anything for the school so far during the break. The end of the previous semester meant they didn’t have any grading to do outside of finals, but they had a few things to arrange for the new units coming up in their classes. They also had to start thinking about test-prep for their outgoing classes. Chakotay worried less, as he only needed to focus on regular class work and his wrestling kids. On the other hand, Kathryn had to prepare the students for the science portions of their college entrance exams and state-wide tests. She’d have little time to herself in the next two months. Fortunately, he was there to help. He could ease her burden, even if it just meant keeping her plied with coffee and making sure she ate occasionally. 

 

Elenia, Chakotay, and Kathryn spent three days in Lawrence touring the KU campus and the town. He’d been right. Elenia and Kathryn hit it off immediately, talking animatedly about the school, science, travel, and just about anything. They were very much alike, even though a decade separated them in age. 

The girl’s excitement was infectious. She’d dragged them to every corner of campus, at least what was open during the break. More importantly, they drove around the town, looking at various housing options, entertainment, and generally learning about Elenia’s future residence. On the last day, they went back to campus to meet with someone from the university to talk about Elenia’s future and get the formal tour. They had been more than accommodating for her visit, even though most of the campus was closed and quiet for the holidays. They understood that she couldn’t come for a visit any other time, so they made sure she had everything she needed to make her decision official.

By the time Chakotay parked at the airport terminal, both women were exhausted from so much excitement. He heaved Elenia’s bags from the bed of the truck and they all went in to get her checked in for her flight. 

They enjoyed a light snack at one of the overpriced cafés in the terminal. They talked about home- changes that had taken place since Kolopak’s death, a new baby in the family, anticipated weddings, and the mild winter they expected to birth an early spring. 

When Chakotay checked the time and noted that the plane would be boarding soon, he brought the subject back to school and Elenia’s visit.

“Did you enjoy your trip to the middle of the country?” He asked his cousin.

“It’s definitely different. But not in a bad way, mind you. I think I’ll like the school from what I’ve seen.” She replied.

“We’d love to have someone from Chakotay’s family close to visit. It’s a good excuse to indulge in a change of scenery and visit the city.” Kathryn chimed in.

“It’d be great to see you two more often. It’s far from home though. It’ll be strange living on my own without a million family members within shouting distance.” Elenia seemed thoughtful.

“Then again, the scholarships were just so much better. I won’t even have to work while I go to school as long as I keep my grades up.”

Chakotay smiled, proud of Elenia and her accomplishments. She had opportunities so many would give anything for. She planned to use them to their fullest as well, pushing herself hard in school and, she hoped, graduating with honors and continuing to the medical program. After she became a doctor, she spoke of wanting to work in underserved communities, like her own, to promote health in across the country. Her aspirations were based in idealism, but he knew she had the determination to pull off whatever she set her mind to, much like his Kathryn.

A woman came over the loud speaker and announced that the flight to Portland was boarding.

The trio hugged. Kathryn kissed Elenia on the cheek, and went to the café counter to pay and grab a few more snacks for the younger woman. 

“She’s really good, Chakotay.” Elenia smiled at the man.

“You should keep her around. I can tell she makes you happy. Auntie has been worried for you, but I can tell this is where you belong.”

“I suppose I might keep her around, just because you insist.” He nudged her with his elbow as the subject of their conversation returned with a bottle of juice and various treats. 

Kathryn walked behind Elenia and unzipped her backpack, shoving the armload of goodies into the space between the books and the Walkman. She zipped the pack up again, and straightened the long black braid back to where it had been. Elenia turned to Kathryn once more and hugged her tight, thanking the smaller woman before turning to address them both again. 

“Well, it’s goodbye for now. I should be back sometime this summer though to get settled in.” The teen smiled at the couple then headed to her gate, looking back occasionally to see them waving, arms around each other as they watched her go.

Kathryn checked them into the hotel in downtown Kansas City as Chakotay parked in the garage and grabbed their bags.

Once they got up to the room, they shared a lengthy shower, getting distracted from the functionality of their task a few times. They stepped out when their skin was wrinkled and reddened from the warm water. 

“Now if only I had an unending hot water supply like this at home!” Kathryn roughly dried her hair as she walked to the bedroom.

“You’d never leave the bathroom!”

“Your right. I’d end up a total recluse. But a happy, warm, satiated recluse, especially if you stayed with me!”

“We can take a bath later if you’re good.” He took the towel from her and hugged her to him, kissing her gently.

“I made reservations for tonight though, so we have to get a move on.” He whispered into her mouth.

“Oh? Where are we going?”

“It’s this low-key Mediterranean place that’s been around for quite a while. Tasso’s. Mike recommended it if I ever got up here. He said they have some of the best non-BBQ fare in town.” 

“Sounds wonderful.” She pulled her dress over her head, letting it fall loosely to her knees. Then she headed back to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

“I thought we’d go and see the fireworks by the river after some wine too. We can bring in the new year properly.”

“The only way to do it is to do it right, I suppose.” She smiled when she emerged from the bathroom and sat at the vanity to apply a little make-up to her flushed face.

Chakotay slid the slacks over his nude hips, buttoning them carefully before he grabbed a collared shirt from his bag and pulled it over his head.

Running a comb through his hair, he grabbed his wallet and keys then started to dig in his bag for a pair of socks.

They both found their shoes and headed for dinner.

The food was amazing, the company even better. Close to midnight they found themselves under the cold, dark sky, sitting on a bench by the river. As fireworks lit the sky, bringing in the new year, they share a kiss, clinging to each other under the blooming lights in the midnight pitch above them.

1993 would be a fantastic year, and every year after that would only be more amazing.


	12. Chapter 12

Tom handed Chakotay a beer as they settled at the counter. 

“So, whose idea was this shit hole again?” Mike asked the group.

“That would be mine.” Tom clapped Mike roughly on the shoulder and got up to feed quarters into the nearest pool table.

As he racked the balls, he nodded towards Chakotay. “I call the big guy for my team. 8-ball.”

Chakotay held his beer in the air in approval and stood to pick his cue from the rack.

Jim waved off for the first game as Harry and Mike stood by, watching the break.

A quick first shot sunk three balls in succession, all solids. Chakotay grinned. 

“Stripes.” He laughed.

“We’re screwed, Rick.” Mike patted the younger man on the back, then called for another round from the waitress.

Chakotay and Tom held the table, expertly dispatching that game and three more over the next few rounds of drinks- shots of vodka and tequila chased with another two pitchers of bitter ale, a questionable decision.

As he sat out the fifth game, Chakotay picked at the salty snacks on the counter, enjoying the warmth that washed through him in waves, rushing from the crown of his head to prickle at his heels. 

His fingers tingled and his pants chafed against sensitive skin. He shifted, uncomfortable.

_Oh, God. I want Kathryn so much right now._

Unbidden, his thoughts sank to the gutter. As his palms wiped moisture on his pant legs, perspiration tickled gloriously down his belly.

_Not the gutter._

He thought.

_Never the gutter with Kathryn. She’s too wonderful for that. But my, oh my. Those lips. That ass. Her delectable…_

He lost himself in a vision of Kathryn, spread, naked and flushed, across his bed, her breast heaving with anticipation as he climbed over her. 

The last sip of beer temped him. He downed it and called for another pitcher and some water. He didn’t think he should drink much more. He couldn’t track one moment to the next, though the feeling of oblivion was welcome. This was the third night she was away at a conference, and she wasn’t going to be back for another two days yet. They hadn’t been apart this long since his father died. He’d come to depend on her. 

No, not depend. That wasn’t quite the right word. 

He’d come to have such a connection with her that he sometimes forgot that they didn’t share a brain. It was as if he could see what she thought before she even thought it. They didn’t need words, they could sense each other. Their skin melted into a single layer when they touched, bathing them both in security and peace in an undulating static charge. He felt the warm trails of his fingers in the fine hairs that raised when he smoothed his palms down her shoulders to her hips. He felt the pressure of her teeth as she bit her bottom lip and smiled when she walked up to him as he came into the shop to get her after the Sunday morning rush. Deep in his spirit he felt the hollowness he only filled in her when he held her in his arms and kissed her hair as she fell to sleep on Friday night, all the week’s stress draining from her finger tips into the posts of his bed and slithering to the floorboards. And in the pit of his stomach, he felt a fluttering burst, barely contained as she quaked around him, his fingers exploring her every depth.

His cheeks burned. His hands shook. His head thumped back onto the wall behind him as he clunked his glass onto the counter at his side, breath heavy and heart pounding.

Mike was sick of losing to Tom and whomever he had partnered with, so he suggested a change of scenery while the bars were still serving. 

Jim called a cab for the quintet, and they settled their tabs with the bartender. 

As the sedan arrived to take them away, they realized that they wouldn’t all fit in the car. Chakotay volunteered to get a different ride home or walk to a nearby hotel, but the others insisted he could fit into the back seat with them if they sat just so. They’d done it before, and weren’t going far. He acquiesced and stuffed himself in last, mashing painfully up against the door as Mike forced it closed then hopped into the front seat.

“Hey man, head over to Risa’s.” Mike told the driver. The old man flipped the car around, heading to the edge of town.

When they pulled up to the building Chakotay realized too late that Mike had directed them to a lounge. Groaning, he noted that lounge might be too kind of a term. Blackened windows were lined with flashing neon signs and bass-driven music shook the panes, vibrating all the way into the parking lot.

Against his better judgement, he followed his brothers in inebriation into the squat building.

His senses were immediately assaulted by the rank of cigarette smoke and stale bar food. The floor stuck to his shoes.

Mike ushered them to a booth a respectable distance from the main catwalk and gestured to a waitress to join them and get their order. Harry looked slightly uncomfortable, but judging by his flushed cheeks, he was less inhibited and more open to relaxing, especially once Mike pushed another beer his way and offered to buy pizza for them.

Tom and Chakotay sequestered themselves safely in the curve of the booth, sandwiched by the single men in the group. 

It didn’t take long until the table of attractive men had attention from the women prowling the floor. 

Chakotay avoided the friskier women, but had a few close calls as hands came from every direction, grabbing at his flesh and worming into his hair. He felt lips brush across his ear as a tanned, doe-eyed girl, maybe 22, leaned over the back of the booth and tried to draw him in. He smiled kindly at her and shook his head. She frowned, but quickly recovered and moved on to another table. 

Two brunettes tag-teamed poor Harry, one sitting on his lap grinding against him, the other caressing his shoulders and whispering into his ear. Mike had a comparable situation unraveling with a well-endowed blonde. Jim sat in his chair, smiling patiently, eyes dilated as another of the women nipped at him and walked around him seductively.

Sitting back from the action, Tom and Chakotay enjoyed watching the entire scene as they sipped at the weak beer in front of them. 

“You know, I think Lanna would kill me if she knew we came to a strip club...without her.” Tom nudged his companion. 

Chakotay chuckled and rubbed his hands together.

“Strip clubs have never been my thing, but then again, the view isn’t one I’d complain about. I just prefer a certain someone instead.”

For a moment, Tom’s mind floated thoughts of his cousin naked and coworker and he found himself more amused than he’d like to admit.

“She’s always been quite a looker, Katie.”

“Mmm.”

“Very spirited too, I don’t know how you do it. But, I know you make her happier than anyone ever has. That fucker Justin was never good for her, but she never saw the bad in him, even though we all did.”

Chakotay had only ever heard about Justin from Kathryn and Tom, so he’d assumed her view of him as Tom hadn’t said anything otherwise when they’d been in the car. According to Kathryn, Justin was the unflappable golden boy of town, the captain of the football team, the fast-track career military man. Apparently, there was another side to the story that she hadn’t acknowledged, yet.

“You have your hands full, too Tom. Lanna is quite a fiery one as well. A bit of a temper too! I walked by her room one day and some of the things she said could make any grown man blush. I didn’t even understand everything, but she has an extensive language catalog when it comes to cursing, I suppose.”

“You have no idea. You should hear her when she’s working on her franken-machines in the garage. There’s more than one hole in the wall with a wrench stuck down in it!”

“Fiery is one thing. Stubborn is another. I swear, it’s like pulling teeth to change that woman’s mind. I’ve been nearly late to work more than once because she gets all feisty and won’t let me leave until I bow to her uncaffeinated will!”

“That’s an even scarier picture of her.” Tom mused.

“An early-morning feisty woman?”

“No. An uncaffeinated Kathryn.” They both laughed.

“It’s a rare occasion. I don’t think she has any blood any more. It’s just coffee now. I imagine the mosquitos during the summer tell all their buddies to watch out. If they bite her they’ll just buzz off into the stratosphere and die a grizzly death.”

“But they’d die happy!”

“Lanna is just about as stubborn. But growing up around Katie, I had a lot of practice. You’ll get it man, just give it time.”

“I don’t think I want to be able to resist her wiles though. I’m quite content.” A dimpled smile spread across his face.

The two men sat in silence while their friends enjoyed themselves and packed all their money away into waistbands and bra straps. 

 

Chakotay shifted uncomfortably in the unfamiliar bed, then bolted upright, eyes wide for a moment before he took in the unfamiliar surroundings and the night before came rushing back to him. He released a relieved breath as he went over the evening and realized that he didn’t make any regrettable decisions, and in fact, worked with Tom to get the other three men safely to a nearby hotel when the club closed at two. Mike and Harry slept sideways across their beds in the adjoining hotel room, a woman beside each of them, a take-home for the night from the club. Judging from their state of undress, the night either went really well for them, or they were going to have a few regrets beyond their pounding hangovers. 

Crawling out from between the sheets, he stood and stretched, searching for his shirt and shoes. He grabbed his errant clothing and headed into the tiny bathroom to clean up. The light above the sink pierced his skull until it felt like his eyes would pop out and his teeth would crack. 

Cupping his hands, Chakotay splashed water over his face and shoulders, then dipped his head down and drank greedily from the faucet until the cool stream calmed some of the tension behind his eyes. 

When he emerged from the bathroom, he found Tom sipping coffee from a paper cup.

“I called a cab to get us back to our cars. I figure by the time we get back here these ingrates will be well enough to travel and spend the rest of their miserable day at home.”

Tom handed Chakotay a paper cup of tepid coffee and grabbed his jacket, throwing Chakotay’s towards the chair by his shoes.

Just then, a horn honked outside their window. 

 

When Chakotay dropped off Harry and Mike, he headed home and got properly cleaned up. After, he grabbed a light coat and headed off to walk to the shop. He felt a bit guilty about going to the strip club the night before, and he thought he would talk a bit with Gretchen to ease his mind. If anything, it would pass some of the time. He had grading to do, but it wasn’t dire, and he tended to avoid looking at stacks of papers until the last few hours before bed on Sunday night. Kathryn would return tomorrow, so he knew he should take care of his work earlier than normal, but he was still hungover, and he couldn’t find the motivation to devote himself to the papers like he ought to. 

A bell tinkled against the door handle as he walked into Reverie. Gretchen peeked around the corner, then emerged, a huge smile on her face that faded rapidly.

“You look horrible Chakotay! Don’t tell me you went out with Mike and Jim last night. They were in earlier and I could tell they’d been up to no good.”

“Unfortunately, they did drag me out. On my honor, Mrs. Janeway, I was the more responsible one of the bunch, believe it or not.”

“Oh, I believe it son.”

She filled a cup with hot water from a kettle and set it in front of him with a tea bag and a spoon for his sugar.

“Regardless of responsibility, you look like death warmed over. But you smell nice.” She gave him an innocent kiss on the cheek.

“Death might be kinder than what I feel like now. I feel old.”

“If you’re old, boy, I’m a relic.”

“You aren’t a relic. If anything, you’re an exquisite example of the finest antiquities.”

“You flirt.”

“With you, always.” He spooned some sugar into the steeping brew.

“So, what are your plans today?”

“Pie. Maybe something to go. Grading.”

“Could I bribe you into doing something for me?” She sat next to him with a tray of half-empty salt shakers.

“It depends. If it involves alcohol, no.”

Gretchen poured salt into the containers, cleaning them as she went.

“I’ve been cleaning up a lot of stuff around the house- some early spring cleaning. There’s a couple things I could use a hand with repairing. Edward always took care of a lot of the repairs, and I could call a handy-man, but I thought…”

He sipped his tea and wrapped an arm around her, hugging her briefly.

“Of course I can help. Can I come by tomorrow? Most of the day is gone already today, and I do need to get some work done at my place.”

“Tomorrow would be perfect. That way you can be home when Kathryn gets in. I’ll leave you a list on the kitchen counter if you’d like. The key is around back under one of the rocks by the door. Go ahead and keep the key. I’ll make another.”

“It’s a deal.” Chakotay squeezed her again, then let her go. 

Gretchen busied herself with wrapping half a pecan pie, carefully securing the delicacy in a handled bag. She three in a few plastic forks and a handful of napkins.

“Now, at least promise me that you’ll eat more than just this today.”

He exaggerated a sigh as he took the parcel from her.

“I suppose I might eat some ice cream too.”

 

Chakotay found the hidden key quickly, and went in through the back door. 

Gretchen hadn’t fibbed, the house was sparkling clean. The walls, floors, and counters were scrubbed and smelled faintly of vinegar and lemon. All the linens had been freshly washed, including the curtains, and the ceiling fans and window seals had been thoroughly dusted and scrubbed. 

Going to the note on the counter, he saw a concise list of manageable tasks. Everything was small, but difficult if one didn’t have strength and size on their side. 

The larger of Kathryn’s bedroom windows was off track- the old wood frame needed replaced, but for now, he could get it situated properly to keep the cold out. It took him about 20 minutes to get the frame lined up properly, but it settled in nicely and sealed completely. He had a feeling it had been in disrepair for a while, but only became a problem if someone forgot and tried to open it.

A few light bulbs in high places needed replaced. Without a ladder, it would have been nearly impossible for either Janeway to reach them, but Chakotay fixed them easily from atop a kitchen chair.

As the sun came out, around noon, Chakotay took a break outside. He decided while he was out there to bundle more firewood up to the back porch, so it would be more accessible. Likewise, he noticed the lock on the shed hanging loosely from the broken handle, so he grabbed his tools and repaired the door, oiling the hinges as well.

He'd just set coffee to brew and headed upstairs to check on the next item on his list, when he heard a car pull up in the drive.

Chakotay looked through the sheer curtains that covered the window on the landing in time to see Kathryn heave a duffle over her shoulder and wave as the car full of her colleagues backed out to the street. She’d carpooled with various teachers from across the district to go to a science and technology conference at Wichita State University. Apparently, they’d become fast friends. 

Hurrying down the stairs, he’d just gotten out of sight, slipping into the kitchen, as she unlocked the front door. 

“Chakotay?”

She dropped the bag by the couch and looked around at the clean house. She knew he was here because she’d seen his truck. She also knew he was lurking because it was absolutely silent, but it smelled like fresh coffee.

He came around the corner, coffee mugs in hand, and kissed her on the back of her neck before she turned around and saw him.

“I missed you.”

“Well I didn’t miss you. I found a new lover in the city. He’s all mysterious and brooding in cowboy boots- that type that all the girls want.”

“As long as you keep your city boyfriend in the city, and I don’t have to deal with the competition on my turf.” He played along with her.

“Oh, he couldn’t be bothered to come out into the boonies.” Kathryn took the proffered mug and turned to go back towards the couch. 

As she moved some of the pillows aside he put his arms around her and brought her down to the cushions with him, sinking deep.

“Really though. I didn’t know what to do with myself, Chakotay. The conference was fantastic, and I met so many great people. The presenters and panels were well chosen and the accommodations were nice enough. The food was fabulous, too, but I could only focus on coming back today.”

She kissed him and went back to lovingly manipulating her coffee, limber fingers stroking the porcelain. 

They spent the rest of the afternoon finishing up the various chores around the house. Then they treated themselves to a movie before making it an early night so they could start the week off well.

Chakotay began to think of what he wanted to do the following weekend for their first Valentine’s day.


	13. Chapter 13

Stepping out of the shower, Chakotay stopped dead at a sound coming from the front of the house. Not hearing it again, he wrapped the towel around his waist and grabbed his toothbrush, squeezing the toothpaste across the bristles and setting to his next task. 

Through the noise echoing in his skull as he scrubbed his teeth, he thought he heard the tapping again. He paused, inching towards the bedroom, listening carefully. He put the toothbrush on the dresser and swallowed the minty sludge left in his mouth. 

There it was again. Scraping against the front entry, like a cat had wedged in behind the loose screen door. Chakotay didn’t want to turn the lights on to scare the stray, so he looked through one of the living room windows. The front porch light was busted, so he couldn’t quite make out his doorstep, but the figure at his door was not a cat.

The scraping continued, then he heard a grunt of frustration. He recognized that ire.

He went to the door and unlocked the sticky lock, pulling on the handle to reveal Kathryn, too wide awake for an early Saturday, looking up at him from her crouch over the lock.

“I really need to call the pound about these strays.” 

He hugged her to him as he flipped the entry-way light on, illuminating her and a small stack of covered storage containers under one arm.

She pulled away, looking him up and down. An eyebrow shot up. 

“You’re wet.”

Laughing he pulled her in from the cool pre-dawn air. 

Looking at his wrist, he mimed checking his watch then shut the door. 

“You’re awake way too early.”

He led her into the kitchen to a seat at the table, taking the food containers from her over to the counter.

“Are you doing a shift at the shop today?” He sat with her, watching intently as she folded her scarf around her gloves.

“No. Mom said she’d disown me if I even showed my face in there today. She said it’s our first Valentine’s weekend and we should enjoy the day since we didn’t really get to celebrate yesterday.” Kathryn rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air in mock anger.

“Then she has the nerve to wake me up as she was leaving to insist I bring you breakfast.” 

Grinning, she hopped up and kissed the top of his head.

“She hinted that you might have plans for us, which explains why you’re up this early.”

She took the lids from the glass containers she’d brought, popping the dishes into the oven and carefully adjusting the temperature. 

“I did all of the chopping, she helped me with the rest and assures me that as long as I only leave it in the oven for 15 minutes, there’s no way even I can mess this up.”

He peeked at the clock to make sure he could keep the time for her.

“She said it wouldn’t do if I poisoned you, so she just had to help me with my idea. She didn’t want me to have time in transit to flub it up, so she drove me over. My bag is still on the porch.”

She looked down at herself, boots pulled over her thick pajama pants and a heather nightshirt, rumpled with sleep. 

“I didn’t think you’d be awake yet. I was just going to sneak in and slip in with you, but your damned door foiled me again.”

“Breakfast then?” Kathryn reached for the coffee he kept in the pantry.

“Or you could help me finish my shower.”

“You look like you’ve finished already. I can just jump in quickly later.” The coffee pot hissed and gurgled as it heated the water.

“Breakfast, but only if you let me help you shower.” He dropped his towel and walked up behind her. 

Chakotay waited until she swapped her cup out to catch the coffee, watching intently as it filled. She stood poised to replace the cup with the pot without wasting a drop. 

She didn’t jump in surprise, but shivered when he wrapped his hands around her, rocking her forward just inches into the curved edge of the laminate. Hands settled to cradle her hips, feeling her muscles tense as she swapped the coffee receptacles. Her coffee cup clanked quietly as she settled it onto the firm surface, then she raised her arms above her, encircling his neck as she stretched and bringing his head down to her for a kiss. 

“Don’t make me burn our breakfast.” She whispered, lowering her arms. 

Then she nudged back against him until she was away from the counter and she took the opportunity to spin around and duck out of his arms, bending to grab his discarded towel to throw it at him. 

“Put it away until I’ve had some coffee, love.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He sat, bare in his chair, smugly crossing his legs and draping the towel across his lap.

As they ate, the sunrise casting light into the kitchen, he counted. 

He counted the number of times her eyes strayed to his lap. He counted the times she gazed at him, that shy smile on her lips. He counted the moments her eyes fluttered as she breathed into her coffee cup, looking away when she caught him studying her. 

They finished their breakfast casserole and made their way to the shower to drain the water heater. 

Dressing quickly in jeans and an old sweatshirt, a towel over his shoulders, Chakotay grabbed Kathryn’s bag from the porch, bringing it into the bathroom so she could get dressed. 

When she walked out in a green velvety dress and woolen leggings, he caught her in a kiss before she could escape for more coffee in the kitchen. 

“I have to take you back to the house to change. You’ll need jeans today.”

Her response was one of utter confusion.

“I have plans and I don’t want you to ruin any clothes.”

A quirked eyebrow.

“Just trust me. Anyways, jeans will be warmer.”

 

As Chakotay pulled the truck up a long drive to a ranch-style home, Kathryn quietly watched the tall shrubbery and naked trees shifting in the plains wind. The sun shone bright on the stark landscape, warming the deep brown soil that spread, furrowed and mounded, waiting for warmer temperatures to release a bounty.

Kathryn heard dogs barking as they pulled close to the house to park. A short, severe-looking woman in her fifties or early sixties, with cropped grey hair and horn-rimmed glasses, came out of the side door in mud boots and tan Carhartt cover-alls. 

“Chakotay! Perfect timing! I just set some tea to steep!” She pulled off her gloves and sidled up next to them, softening immediately and taking Kathryn’s hands in hers.

“This must be Kathryn.” She shook with more force than Kathryn expected.

“It must be.” A dashing smile lit Chakotay’s face as he ducked his head. “Kathryn, this is Vicki.” 

“You’re a lucky woman. If I were younger and didn’t have my Reese, I’d be all over this gentleman of yours!”

“Do you remember when I mentioned helping out at a rescue on the weekends when you’re helping your mom?” Chakotay reminded her.

“I was a bit distracted at the time, but it’s coming back to me.” Kathryn squinted into the blooming day, taking in the layout of the compound.

“Vicki and Reese are the owners of the rescue. Misha told me about them at the dance last semester when I mentioned wanting to do more in the community.”

Kathryn’s eyes lit up.

“Oh! Chakotay’s told me so much about it here! He adores helping out and spending time with the animals.” She rocked up on her toes, excited about meeting the older woman.

“He thought you might want to visit today and meet some of his charges.”

“That would be fabulous, Vicki!”

“He thought you’d say so, and his mushy heart wanted to give us a chance to go off and enjoy a brunch without worrying about the dogs.”

Kathryn bumped her elbow into Chakotay’s and wrapped her arm around his waist, leaning her head onto his shoulder. 

“He is a bit of a romantic, isn’t he?”

“He also had someone in mind he wanted you to meet.” Chakotay rested a palm on Kathryn’s lower back, applying pressure to urge her forward.

“Is that so?”

Vicki led them into the kitchen off the side deck and sat them down for tea, toeing off her boots in the sun room. 

“Enjoy the tea. Reese and I will be ready to head out in a few minutes.”

 

Kathryn and Chakotay waved at the older couple as they turned around in the driveway in their faded two-tone truck. 

“Putting me to work? I don’t know about this Chakotay.” She poked him in the ribs with her index finger and exaggerated a pout.

“Just trust me.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her into a trot behind him, headed around the back of the house, towards the fenced area. 

Rounding the corner, they went to a double set of gates. In one direction, a long, enclosed shed attached to the house, the kennels easily accessible and warmed from the furnace during the colder months. Towards the open fields the gate stretched at least 50 yards to give the rescued dogs plenty of safe room to play. 

The facilities were quite impressively kept, though modest. A lot of care and demanding work went into the operation, especially from the Paulsens. 

They entered the kennels and the cacophony of barking increased, dogs of every color and age jumped excitedly, happy to see Chakotay.

He turned towards a metal cabinet built into the wall and pulled out a bag of treats. He explained to Kathryn the most appropriate behavior and the rules of the kennel so they could be safe and keep the dogs happy and healthy. Chakotay took Kathryn to meet each of the dogs, and as she offered them treats and talked with them, he filled their food bowls and changed out their water. As he loved on them, he looked them over to make sure the dogs were clean and unharmed, something he explained that each person did when they came in, to make sure the rescues thrived in the best possible environment. Occasionally, Chakotay asked Kathryn to stay back and entered the stall with caution and slow movements, speaking softly to the more distraught or abused animals. 

They responded well to him, and often approached him trustfully, though they eyed his companion suspiciously, her presence strange and disconcerting in their limited world. Her heart swelled and she couldn’t stop smiling as she watched the tender touches and nonsense murmuring reassuring even the wariest animals. 

Towards the end of the building, they came to a couple of larger empty stalls and a generous slot with two identical puppies and their mother. The puppies looked to be a couple months old, romping about in the bedding.

“This girl we named Trixie,” he nodded towards the adult retriever, “She arrived a month before I started helping out. She had a litter of puppies at the beginning of December. These two cuties with her are the last ones left, their siblings have been adopted in the last two weeks. The little boy is Connor and the female puppy is Mollie.”

He opened the gate and kneeled as the puppies tumbled towards him and Trixie rose from her bed to nuzzle his knee. 

Kathryn sat cross-legged beside Chakotay. Her movement diverted the smaller of the two puppies. The stunted legs carried the runt to her target, the little girl climbing awkwardly over denim-clad legs. The puppy settled quickly into Kathryn’s lap, wiggling her head into a waiting hand, wet nose tickling warm fingers.

“Someone sure approves of you.” Chakotay entertained Connor with one hand, and reached over to scratch Mollie behind her ears as she scrabbled deeper into Kathryn’s lap.

Unwilling to disturb her sleepy companion, Kathryn stayed with Mollie and her family while Chakotay took care of other things around the kennel. 

When he came back, he found Kathryn mesmerized by the gentle squirming of the sleeping pup, her fingers massaging the fluff, lightly scratching between shoulders and hips. 

“You look like you never want to let her go.” Chakotay sat next to her, eliciting only a passing glance from Trixie and Connor as they cuddled a few feet away.

“She’s just so precious. I forgot how wonderful it is to have a furry friend.”

“She can come home with us today, if you’d like. She’s ready to go home with someone, and I can tell she already loves you.”

“Well, I couldn’t disappoint her, could I?”

“She’ll be a handful,” he noted.

“Won’t she be lonely when I’m at school?”

“Gretchen already said she’d love to help with a puppy. She thought it might be just what the house needs right now.”

“Oh, Chakotay.” She leaned to hug him and the puppy snorted in disappointment as she was awakened. 

“I don’t know if I want to share you with a younger woman,” she laughed.

He chuckled.

The doors to the long hall opened.

Vicki strode into the building with Reese, coming to see what the pair was up to. 

“Ah, Chakotay thought Mollie might take to you. He said you were kindred spirits.” Reese bent and patted Trixie and Connor in greeting, then lifted Mollie to his chest when she stumbled towards him and pawed at his clothes.

Half an hour later, Kathryn buckled her seat belt and held out her arms for Mollie, cuddling the fuzzy being into the jacket she wore as Chakotay walked around to get in the driver’s side. The Paulsens hurried back into the house.

“Would you like to take her home, or take a trip to the pet store?”

“Chakotay! I couldn’t possibly just drop her off and leave her alone! But, she can’t go in the store, can she?”

“They let the pets into the store. We can take her there as long as she has a collar and a leash. We can buy those first thing though.”

Kathryn scooted a few inches closer to Chakotay and brushed her lips across his cheek. 

“Thank you. This is the best thing ever. I already adore her.”

“Anything for you. You’ve talked about your dog from your childhood so fondly, I thought you two would be very happy. She can keep you company whenever I’m gone with the team.”

“And she can keep you company whenever I’m at the shop or at a conference.”

“Exactly.”

Mollie yelped and circled Kathryn’s lap as Chakotay got onto the highway. She quieted when he started humming in key with the engine, head on her mistress’s knee. 

By the time they got to Chakotay’s home over an hour later, they had a purple collar and matching leash, a doggie bed and bowls for each house, a bag full of toys, some over-priced puppy food, and one of just about everything else they’d need for a dog.

“How about you two get in a nap while I get some lunch started?” Chakotay carried in most of the supplies while Kathryn held Roxy to her.

“Can we eat outside so she can play in the yard? I think it’s warm enough.”

“I’ll wake you guys when it’s ready on the table out back.” He shooed his girls from the kitchen and set about searching the cabinets for all the ingredients he gotten the day before.

 

Hours later, after an early dinner, they found themselves on the back porch again, lazing in the last of the daylight. 

Suddenly a loud crash vibrated the still air as rail cars nearby halted and pulled as the conductor shifted the train to take on another load.

Mollie cried out and Kathryn jumped, frightened by the puppy’s wail. 

Once they were settled, Kathryn burst out in strangled laughter. 

“Chakotay, help!”

The pup whimpered, trying to climb to Kathryn’s shoulders and bury it’s head in her neck.

“She peed in my lap!”

He jumped up and pulled Mollie into his arms.

“Goodness, ladies. I guess it’s bath time!”

Chakotay took their puppy to the bathroom directly, starting the bathwater in the tub. Kathryn quickly stripped her jeans and sweater and put on one of Chakotay’s t-shirts. 

Stopping by the living room to grab the dog shampoo from one of the bags, she made her way into the bathroom to help with Mollie’s bath.

Once their new pet was dry, warm, and snuggled on her cushion by the bed, they headed for a shower of their own. 

Closing the bathroom door so the puppy wouldn’t wander in, they both stripped out of their wet clothes, leaving them in a pile blocking the door. He turned the water on at the tap, adjusting it to come out of the shower head, then turned to bury his hands in Kathryn’s hair, working the elastic band from its tight grip.

Her sighs and shrieks were drowned out by the water flow. Before she could complain of the cold, she was perched on the edge of the bathroom counter, the lip of the sink digging into her thighs until she shifted over a couple inches. His hands wandered all over the goosebumps inhabiting her skin, his teeth followed his fingers, inflaming and engorging everything they devoured. She liked it when he used his mouth, when he left faint marks across her pale canvas. He knew she liked it, because she bit him in return, sucking at his chest as she raked her short nails down the length of his back. 

He latched on to her mouth with his, tangling his tongue in the warm, wet heat, and reveling in the way she opened to him, melding with him every time they came together. Without breaking contact, he reached to grab one of the towels from the top of the toilet. He slid the fluffy linen behind Kathryn, to offer a buffer between the vanity mirror and her back. It would also keep her closer to the end of the counter. As soon as the towel was in place, he pushed her back until her feet left the floor, following her ascent with his hips.

Shower forgotten, he tested her with his fingers, finding more than emphatic lubrication. His kiss muffled her wail as he thrust into her, hard. He pushed into the hot passage repeatedly, increasing his pace and the force behind his movement until the counter ate grooves into the top of his thighs, bruising them as he lunged. He felt wetness where the surface made contact, the fluids leaking from Kathryn as she tilted and ground against the counter with every movement to tighten the angle and add stimulation.

_Totally worth it._

She held fast to him, her body jerking exuberantly each time he burst up into her. Eventually, he found he was supporting most of her weight as she spread around him, arms braced behind his back, her hands gripping each other as if her life depended on it, alternately scrambling to find a better hand hold every few seconds. Her legs wrapped so tightly about him, that she had her feet hooked under his ass, widening his stance and trapping him, her heels helping him push against her. Her chin dug into his shoulder, her ear against his neck as she pressed so far that he barely had to move. They came together, the noise eliciting tiny scratches at the bathroom door where Mollie yipped, worried.

Chakotay kept hold of Kathryn and stepped into the shower, pinning her to the wall as he moved within her, riding out the softening spasms of their orgasms. He heard her breathing change again, coming faster, pitched higher. He realized she was building to another climax. He wasn’t ready, but that’d never stopped him. 

He replaced his penis with fingers as he bit into her lip. He propped his foot up on one of the curved corners of the tub, he pulled her leg away from his hip to dangle from atop his bent knee so he could hold her up, keep her wide, and still have use of his hand. Three fingers now. As she rode him, his thumb worked small circles against the bundle of nerves as she shook around him, her legs seizing. Her eyes rolled up to the ceiling and she held her breath, grimacing slightly before her mouth fell open, gasping silently. Suddenly, as the contractions of her orgasm broke the surface again, she dropped her head to his shoulder, crying out half-heartedly, spent, as she helplessly thrust onto his hand.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispered into her ear as he lowered her feet to the ground, intent on showering properly as soon as she could stand on her own.


	14. Chapter 14

For a moment, he wasn’t quite sure if he’d really opened his eyes. Kathryn’s room, even with the curtains pulled and overlapping, was rarely in such absolute darkness. Often, moonlight insinuated itself just so through the windows and the small night light in the hall slithered beneath the substantial gap beneath the door.

Lightening flashed, creating the impression of full daylight, momentarily bathing the walls and ceiling in white and the sharp inky-blue of deep, dancing shadows. 

The entire house shook with a deafening boom of the bolt’s twin thunder, shivering the particles in the still air. 

The softly falling rain transitioned into a pattering torrent as the process repeated.

Kathryn sleepily pulled the blanket to cover her head and burrowed into the crook of Chakotay’s arm, dryly kissing his skin in her sleepy bliss. 

The auburn tufted ears at his other shoulder twitched, but Mollie stayed quiet, comforted by her mistress’s calm. The puppy still trembled with each round of lightning and thunder, loud dazzling masses coming in increasing, pulsing frequency. Chakotay felt her wet nose next to his ear, her puppy panting warm and ripe in the hairs of his neck. 

Turning a smidge to see the digital alarm clock, he noted the power outage, which also explained the disquieting gloom of the house. Blindly he felt for his watch with his free hand. At the next illumination smattering through the thin curtains, he noted the time. They still had a couple hours to sleep. He hoped the storm would peter out before morning. The week of violent storms had muddied most of the town, leaving the fields, tracks, and walking paths unusable. It also meant he’d have to get up much earlier and get Gretchen to Reverie, as their street tended to flood with the unrelenting storms. The Camry couldn’t safely navigate the water-logged streets. Though the old woman would pull on her knee-high waders and try to set out on foot, he couldn’t in good conscience let her go on her own when he could easily steer her into the cab of the truck and get her to the shop dry and warm. 

Chakotay felt himself drift back into a doze shortly after Mollie started snoring softly into his ear. He slept lightly, conscious of the others in the bed with him, shifting in sleep. Kathryn’s arm snaked across his chest, her hand curling gently over his shoulder, finger tips brushing the puppy’s coat. Both of his companions sighed contentedly at the contact, oblivious to the sloshing tantrum of mother nature beyond the solid walls of the home. 

As the sky began to lighten, he extricated himself from the pile of cuddling attention. When the puppy shifted and opened her eyes, promptly excited at his wakefulness, he scooped her into his arms before she could yelp and wake Kathryn. He felt his way to the kitchen and cracked the back door open just enough for Mollie to slip out and take care of her morning business.

Soon enough, Gretchen joined him in the kitchen. She checked the lights to confirm the outage and sat with Chakotay at the table to talk, bringing in the early morning with whispers and muffled laughter. 

Later, both sifted through drawers looking for a flashlight so they could put together something from the pantry for breakfast. 

Success.

“Go get ready, Gretchen. I’ll get this taken care of then get you to work. Kathryn can sleep in a bit, she was up entirely too late last night grading midterms.” He encouraged the woman to leave the kitchen as he searched the pantry for the granola bars and bottled juice.

She nodded and headed back up the stairs.

When Mollie came in, wet from the swampy yard, she settled in the puddle of towels they’d left for her under the kitchen table. 

Fifteen minutes later Gretchen reappeared in her jeans and apron, swaddled in a warm rust-colored sweater.

“I don’t think I can take Roxy with me today with this storm like it is.” She bent to scratch the pup in question behind her hers.

“I’ll check on her, mom.” Kathryn’s voice was still raspy with sleep. She rubbed her eyes and bent to love on the puppy when she got into the kitchen.

Settling at the table, she looked longingly at the kettle and the drip-coffee maker, cold and hopeless in the powerlessness of the morning. 

“Good. It won’t do to leave her alone all day. I’ll worry, but she’ll do better here than the shop.”

“Don’t worry mom, I can stop by during my planning time and we can come by at lunch. I don’t have anything after school, so I’ll be home fairly early. I don’t even expect the storm to last much longer, so I can get her out for a walk.”

 

Chakotay pulled back into the drive after dropping Gretchen off and making a quick stop at his house. He needed clothes, as his stay at the house was unexpected, but Gretchen hadn’t wanted him driving home in the severe weather. Kathryn was waiting, swathed in her rain coat, her bag pressed to her side under the stiff, shiny cobalt material. 

The rumble in the skies had calmed and the steady drizzle indicated an approaching break in the deluge.

By the time they hurried into the school, shaking their clothes of the excess of water, the clouds began to move off, sunlight pushing through and igniting the rich, wet world in saturated and hues. 

 

Near the end of second period the noise outside rose again, windows vibrating in the panes as the wind billowed and fought itself in turbulent currents. The pitter of rain on the roof meant that Chakotay had to speak louder and keep lecturing even though he had to grab a trashcan to catch a new leak near his desk. Just when the downpour started to retreat, another wave swept against the building. 

In passing, he hoped that Kathryn would come get the keys to his truck to go check on Mollie during her break.

Chakotay outlined the Bill of Rights for his students and turned half of the classroom lights off. He rolled the television and VCR cart to the front of the room and plugged it in, inserting a tape and pressing play so his students could view a video on the first amendment to the U.S. Constitution. Most of the students scribbled notes as they copied the last of his writing on the board. The video played stilted music over lengthy credits and copyrights. 

Half an hour into the film, the roar outside near deafening, multi-tonal sirens rose in volume nearby, the siren towers at the city limits triggered by reports of sighted funnels and other potential formations in the storm. 

Flipping the lights on and hitting the power on the TV, Chakotay waved the students to line up against the inside wall of the classroom. The fire alarm began to reverberate through the building, strobes lighting the ceiling with each warning. Chakotay counted his students as they filed out towards the inner hallways and crouched, heads towards the wall, hands folded over their necks as they’d practiced in drills since they were children. The building seemed to shift as the earth raged and growled, snarling at the shingles and wailing through the chinks in the siding. 

He kneeled in the same position as his students as the howl of the storm boomed, attacking the building. 

A crescendo of chaos. 

Glass shattered somewhere in classrooms towards the other end of the building. The pressure in the building shifted.

His ears popped painfully and he heard groans nearby as others experienced the same, curling harder into the cool cinder walls. 

Everyone huddled, muscles taut as they gasped in the dusty air, the tempest calming just as quickly as it climaxed.

Eerie motionlessness befell the hall. 

Even the breathing of the students and staff barely disturbed the air. 

Chakotay raised his head up, squinting into the haze. The light coming into the building had taken on an unusual sickly yellow tint. The stillness muffled the intermittent sobs coming from some of the younger students near him. The alarm system had stopped some time before, when the cataclysmic storm overtook most of the west wing of windows. 

Mr. Tuvok walked through the lines of classes, stopping to talk to each of the teachers and taking a quick visual inventory of the damage to the building and accounting for the students and staff. 

“Mr. Walker. Please take count of your students. Ask them to remain seated where they are and come report to me when you’ve finished.”

Chakotay asked two of his more responsible charges to keep tabs on the class after he checked on the well-being of all fifteen kids. He worked his way to the center of the school, still jittery with worry. This had been his first tornado, and he found the calm of the people around him helped him stay balanced. His mind wandered to Kathryn and her classroom in the west wing.

It was possible that she had stayed at the school instead of going home during her planning period. He checked his watch. It was also possible that she had gotten back to the school before the tornado had come. If that was the case, he’d see her in a matter of moments when he got to the workroom where they would convene to report to Mr. Tuvok. 

He turned the corner and scanned the small room. 

Tom.

Lanna.

Harry.

A weather radio droned on in the background, static interspersed with a stern male voice reading the string of warnings. Buzzing and flat tones punctuated the warnings and watches.

Ray.

Misha.

Mike. 

Felix.

Sam.

The secretary, Steph, moved into the room followed by the custodian, Quincy, taking a spot between Ray and Misha. 

He didn’t see Kathryn. 

His chest burned; pressure welling until his heart ground against his tonsils, clawing its way to freedom.

“Mr. Walker, have you seen Miss Janeway?”

“What?” Air whooshed from his chest, the skin of his face bulging and red with the release.

Tom grasped his shoulder and repeated Ray’s question.

“Have you seen Kathryn, Chakotay?”

“If she’s not here, then she might have gone home this period.”

“Okay.” Ray thought for a moment, then assigned tasks to his staff, beginning with Chakotay.

“Try to call her house. If you can’t get her on the line, take your truck and Mike and go try to find her.”

He moved to the phone by the copier and dialed the house.

“Felix, Sam, Misha, Stephanie, Tom, please keep an eye on the students and report any injuries.”

Ringing.

“Lanna and I will contact appropriate emergency services and complete a preliminary survey of damage to determine if students can proceed to other areas of the school.”

Still Ringing.

He looked at Mike and the man nodded to him. 

Both men excused themselves from the workroom and headed towards the front door of the school. 

Outside everything looked relatively normal aside from the excess of debris across the road and sidewalks. 

Then he looked to his left, towards downtown a mile away. His gaze lingered to the northwest of the school, towards the residential area where the Janeways resided. 

A trail of destruction cut through the park and neat houses. Trees were shorn down the center, fences split and wrapped grotesquely, vertically, embracing the knobby trunks of their progenitors. 

Entire sections of roof laid crumbling and tarry through weeping windowsills. 

Power lines fluttered in whimsy, some of the poles threatening to crush cars and basketball hoops. 

Lumber lay in disarray, spreading wanton from foundations.

He turned his back to the scene, breaking into a run to catch up to Mike.

He hopped into the truck, but noticed Mike struggling with something on his side.

Getting out again he rushed to the passenger side of the truck and quickly helped pull the motorcycle out from its awkward wedged position under the front fender. Mike kicked at some of the loose parts of his bike that were catching on the truck frame. With one last tug, the machine slid loose and they dragged it clear of the truck. 

They got in. The vehicle didn’t seem to be hemorrhaging any fluids and it started immediately, so Chakotay backed up carefully and got out to the main road, avoiding debris. Only a matter of yards away the hazards thickened, and he found he could only navigate at a snail’s speed. 

They’d only just rounded the turn onto Cooper when it quickly seemed impossible to continue. He parked the truck out of the way of the street and both men disembarked to go the last two blocks on foot. 

Mike observed that there were almost no cars in the driveways. He knew most of these people would be at work and likely not in their houses when the twister hit.

Keeping an eye out for hazardous power lines, they plodded through the clear areas they could find, frequently shifting ungainly obstacles to make it easier for a vehicle or other people to get through. 

As soon as they could see Kathryn’s house, Chakotay couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

The little blue car twisted and sparkled in a blanket of shattered glass underneath the huge tree in the yard. He couldn’t tell if the tree had taken out the car or if the car had downed the tree, such was the ludicrous amalgamation of metal and wood.

That same tree lay cocooned in destruction, cutting through the living room of the house and into the kitchen in back, splintering its way through the landing on the second floor and demolishing everything in its path. 

The whole structure spun around the tree like a parody of an angry gulf cyclone. In the front, not a single line of the house, not the foundation, not the support beams, not the siding, made straight lines anymore. On the partial second floor in the back, Gretchen’s room remained intact in that it was still on the second floor at all. Perhaps Kathryn’s room underneath had fared even better. 

There was still a chance that she had been walking to or from the school and holed up with one of the neighbors when the sirens went off.

He miss-stepped at the curb and fell, grunting as a piece of errant wreckage opened a bloody gouge on his forearm. Mike turned and held out a hand to help Chakotay up. 

“Man, that looks bad.”

A shrill bark rent the air.

“There’s a first aid kit in the back of the house. It should still be there by the looks of it.”

Another mewl. 

Around the side of the house, in response to Chakotay’s voice, Mollie lopped towards him, hobbling and whimpering. 

When she got to the men, Chakotay picked her up. One of her front legs was gooey with mats of blood or mud, he wasn’t sure, but she hadn’t been favoring the limb. 

He checked the other front paw to find the joints moving too freely and tremors of pain if any pressure was applied. No other wounds seemed to ail her, though being wet and cold made her understandably miserable. 

She kept barking at him even though he kept her cuddled to him under his jacket. 

He felt hope well in him when he realized that if Kathryn had been home, she’d likely have been with their puppy, so she might be just fine. 

But if she was okay, why would Mollie be alone right now?


	15. Chapter 15

Mollie shivered, whimpering into his neck as he snuggled her to his shoulder under the jacket. 

“Chakotay, we need to go around back. If Kathryn is here, she’ll be there. The dog came from the back too.”

“She still might not have been home. Maybe Mollie got out on her own. There isn’t a single door or window intact. It’s amazing that she came out of it so unscathed.”

“You know we need to look, Chakotay.”

“She might already be back at the school,” he denied.

He knew it was a slim possibility that she’d be at the school, but he was afraid that Mike might be right and she’d be somewhere in the devastation in the back of the house.

Mike started walking along the path the puppy had taken, kicking some of the larger chunks out of his way. 

Shuffling in a momentary daze, Chakotay shook himself back to the stark landscape of the hellish mixture of nature, ever powerful, and the man-made, malleable and easily broken.

The back porch stood amazingly intact, only the furniture had been flung across the width of the yard, lodging into the shed and the chain-link fence shared with the neighbors. 

His companion tested the steps and determined them fit and the porch stable enough for them. Chakotay joined Mike and gently passed the dog in his arms to his friend. Mike took the pup, understanding that Chakotay had to be the one to go into the house and see for himself if Kathryn was there. 

Using his shoe to knock the last of the shattered glass from the sliding door, he looked around the messy kitchen. Branches of the tree from the front yard poked through the wall that divided the living room and dining area. It wasn’t the tornado that seemed to have done the most damage, but the secondary debris- trees and the car that created the problem. Cabinets folded like an accordion under the compression of the precarious support beams from the landing that had imploded on impact, splintering all over the tiles and slamming into the pantry and refrigerator. The appliances, sturdy as they were, even if upturned, held fast against any of the debris condemning them. 

The violence he’d witnessed on the outside of the house continued inside, but it seemed more surreal. Hazy air filled with dust motes and unsettled lint from the insulation swirled around him, fracturing the light into unforgiving, chaotic beams. 

Tentatively, he stepped just inside the door, throwing a look over his shoulder at Mike, who’d come up behind him. 

Shards of glass crumbled under his feet, grating against the floors, creating fissures in the linoleum. The walls creaked, the cracked foundation settling under the new load distribution. He swept his eyes over every surface of the room, flicking from the gaping opening he could see the front yard through to remains of the upper floor. 

In Mike’s embrace, Mollie yipped, squirming weakly. 

“Kathryn!” Chakotay raised his voice as he moved deeper into the kitchen, peering up through the waterfall of light from the pocked roof. 

“Chakotay, be careful. You won’t do any good if you end up trapped in here.”

“Kathryn!” He shouted. 

He turned to Mike when his calls went unanswered.

“The bathroom is just over here. I can get some bandages. Give me a minute.”

The puppy squeaked again, yowling, but resigning herself to being held. 

Following a moment of silence as Chakotay picked his way towards the bathroom door he heard a cough.

“Kathryn?”

Another rough exhalation from somewhere ahead of him and a shuddering groan, the voice strained.

“Mike! I think she’s here!”

Chakotay picked up his pace towards where the sound continued. The voice hacked intermittently and dust shook from the exposed wood above him as he heard movement. 

“Kathryn!” He got to the bathroom doorway. The door hung on a single hinge, cutting an angle across the small room, one corner smashed into the mirror above the sink. The contents of the medicine cabinet lay scattered along the floor, most of it soaked by the dripping from the pipes and the busted toilet bowl. 

Grabbing the first aid kit right near the sink in front of him, Chakotay broke the bent latches and fished out the tape and gauze, pocketing them for later. 

He heard the weary cough again to his right and turned. The exhalations were muffled, but very close.

Chakotay tested the wedged door. The obstacle blocked him from seeing or accessing half the bathroom. Even braking the tenuous hold of the last hinge, he could not get the door free. A bottom corner pierced the floor, deeply embedded, lodging it tightly to the fractured mirror. If he pulled the door up or back it didn’t budge, the deformed wood locked into place. 

Mike kept an eye out for any dangerous shifts or changes in the house while Chakotay tried to manipulate the door by rotating the free corner on the top towards him, levering the stuck end into the floor. The door moved very little, but it at least allowed him a sliver of a view to the other side.

In the old-fashioned porcelain tub, under large chunks of ceiling and carpet, beneath even the dresser from her mother’s closet upstairs, Kathryn hunched, curled over her knees, much like the students had hunkered down in the hallway at school.

Her breaths labored quietly, her mouth muffled as it pressed into her knees. With each puff of air, the shroud of loose reddish-brown haloing her head expanded briefly and floated softly down against the cracked porcelain. 

“Mike!” He turned back to his friend from his awkward position, one foot propped on the sink, the other pushing up, bracing his leg against the door.

“Take Mollie to the truck and get some help. Kathryn is in here and she’s alive!”

Chakotay pushed down harder, but stopped when white powdery swirls fell from what was left of the ceiling. 

“We need help to get her out safely. She’s blocked in.”

By the time he shifted his gaze back to Kathryn’s compressed body, Mike had rushed out the door, intent on a dead run back to the truck. Luckily, they’d left the keys in the ignition in case the truck had to be moved in a hurry.

Chakotay strained his arm over the door, a burning sensation tearing through his shoulders as he tried to touch a foot, a shoulder…anything really.

“Kathryn? Can you hear me, love? We’re here. You’ll be out in no time. Mollie brought us to you!”

The moan that responded was a beautiful sound. It was the first real response he’d gotten out of her, and it gave him a modicum of hope.

Pulling back to look at the door again, he looked for another way to get closer to her.

“Oh, God.” She hiccuped, then cried out when she tried to lift her head from against the cool surface of the tub only to encounter resistance from a smattering of debris. Her neck muscles refused to cooperate, protesting at the abusive angle they’d been sequestered in for so long. 

Chakotay dug in the rubble littering the floor under the troublesome door, thinking he might be able to shimmy in beneath the door if he cleared the way and got it to pull back just enough. 

Successfully clearing most of the mess in his path, he wrested the door further from the frame, pushing it against the direction it had embedded itself in the floor and wall. Looking around as he held the door out, he looked to see if everything else had stayed in place. Much surer of his safety, he slipped between the frame and the disfigured wood and carefully let the solid mass settle back into position. 

Awkwardly kneeling next to the tub in the narrow space, he snaked his arm into the tiny open space at Kathryn’s neck. His hand contacted her cotton-clad shoulder, lending her warmth and comfort. 

He noted that her clothes were sopping wet from the ruptured plumbing and the constant drip of water sneaking in from the fissures in the roof. Now that he was closer, he was relieved that he couldn’t see any blood, but he knew that didn’t necessarily mean that she didn’t need to get out just as quickly. 

As soon as he got closer he could detect the panting, short breaths she took to adjust to the constriction of her lungs. The compact space was unforgiving, pushing her flat against the firm surface beneath her. Most of her right side, the side exposed to him, was clear of the materials pinning her, but she couldn’t move much because the sides of the tub blocked her in. 

“Mike is going for help. Someone will be here soon and we can get you out. Just stay with me.”

She grunted in response, trying to shrug her loose shoulder but stopping short when her pinned arm gave way, the joint finally slipping under the pressure of the odd angle. 

He lightly touched her hair, fingering the soft strands as they slipped through his palm. 

“Chakotay.” She paused, shifting again obstinately. “Why can’t I move?”

“You have something above you. There’s someone coming to help get you out.”

He looked worriedly outside.

“How do you feel?”

A shift again, and her breathing raised in pitch before she held it and calmed herself again. 

“I can feel everything. And it hurts. My legs are burning like someone encased them in lava. There’s shooting up my hips and back”

His hand went back to rest on her shoulder right above the spot where her hand was stuck under her chest.

“You’ve been tamped down like this for a while, I imagine your body isn’t very happy with you.”

“It isn’t.” 

Silence. 

The storm surged again, turning the trickle from above into a steady stream. Drops of water pooled in the unnatural valley between Kathryn’s shoulders, overflowing to her neck and splattering down below to the bath.

After an indeterminate amount of time that stretched painfully into forever as he listened to her shuddering lungs and the ominous sounds pervading the structure, noises outside preceded a figure at the back door, calling into the house.

“Anyone in here?” The voice called out.

“In here Joe! Did Mike get you?”

Joe Carey filled the bathroom entrance, dressed in bulky protective gear. Chakotay had met the man quite a few times, as the neighbor often chatted with them when he was in the back yard, watching his girls play. He worked at the fire department. 

“He caught us. He went on to the shop to check on Gretchen and drop off the dog. He’ll be joining us soon”

Joe’s eyes scanned the room, making a quick assessment of the situation. More sounds came from outside as others from the department and emergency services arrived and came up the back steps. The neighbor disappeared for a couple of minutes, then returned with two other men wielding heavy tools. The other men went to make sure the power, gas, and water to the house were turned off.

Over the next forever, the half-dozen men on the scene made a safe path to Kathryn, shielding her from most of the collateral danger as they hacked through the obstructions to her and rigged supports to the unstable area around her.

Chakotay stood out of the way, fixated on her as she was revealed. He watched through the men and their equipment, glimpsing flashes of Kathryn’s shirt and sallow skin. 

Before his brain returned from the shock of the situation, Kathryn was freed, unconscious, on a stretcher being carried over the piles of refuse in the yard to a gurney on the street where the path had been cleared. Her body was meticulously stabilized from her toes to her scalp, bright straps crossing her body.

He just wanted to touch her. But everything moved so fast now.

Mike came up beside him and handed him the keys to the truck.

“I’ve got Mollie settled at the shop and Gretchen is in the truck so she can go with you. I’ll let Ray and the others know. Call the us when you hear anything.”

The ambulance doors slammed closed once Kathryn was secured in the back.

While he’d been in the house, the road had been cleared significantly so the emergency vehicles could get through the neighborhood, though all seemed to be better equipped than a normal car to manage the uneven path.

Chakotay got into the driver’s seat of the truck, his hands gripping the wheel until his knuckles blanched white. Gretchen scooted closer to him, resting one of her hands on his knee.

He chanced a glance to her, experiencing a rush of emotions at the sight of her tear-streaked face: fear, anger, sadness, and most of all helplessness.

He bit hard on his own tongue to keep himself distracted as he pulled out behind the ambulance as it wormed towards open roads, screeching all the way to the county hospital.


	16. Chapter 16

_When they pulled into the lot, he intended to drop Gretchen at the door, but she asked him to park and walk in with her._

_“The last time…” she said, ever so quietly, “The last time I walked into an ER alone my family fell apart. One of my babies lost her child and the other her husband. The time before that I lost the love of my life. Things are never the same.”_

_He got out and went around to open the door and help her down._

_His hand on the small of her back, he gently guided her towards the entrance. The woman leaned into him, frayed around the edges, but clinging to sanity if only to pray that her daughter would be okay. Were two miracles in a single lifetime too much to ask for?_

 

Now he sat.

Waiting.

Gretchen had pleaded with the nurse at reception to let Chakotay come back with her.

He wasn’t family. So, he’d been left to wait.

As a mother, she was desperate and against all superstition gave in. She acknowledged she’d rather see her daughter alone than not at all. 

He’d handled the paperwork, and the tired nurse in the pristine scrubs made him check in as well when she noted blood dripping down his wrist. 

Another nurse pulled him to a small exam room briefly to clean his arm and wrap it properly so it wouldn’t bleed everywhere. It’d taken fifteen stitches to close the laceration in his arm. He hadn’t realized he was light headed until she’d peeled his jacket from the skin and doused his whole lower arm in antiseptic. He’d done a mediocre job at the house with the gauze from the bathroom. Mostly, the bandage had been applied to get everyone to leave him alone as he stood nearby and watched the fire and rescue team extract Kathryn from her precarious prison. The nurse seemed utterly appalled by the lack of wound care and left him in the waiting room with a packet of antibiotics and instructions on laceration care.

Now he waited.

Looking up when the door opened, he hoped to see a doctor with news, but it was only an older man, bedraggled and weary, head bandaged, a pronounced limp as his left foot slid on the floor. Chakotay rose, offering his seat to the man.

He checked his watch. The time surprised him. Half-past four meant that the tornado hit barely over five hours ago, but wasn’t it a lifetime?

Letting himself fall backwards to lean against the wall, he raised his head, eyes sweeping the room. A few dozen people scattered about, having trickled in over the last two hours. All of the chairs were occupied by those in various states of distress and injury, the floors littered by despondent loved ones and a few with minor injuries. It seemed that the whole county hadn’t seen too many casualties from the storm, and Attleboro had less damage than most tornadoes of that severity wrought. 

It was unusual that a tornado would strike at such a fortuitous time, they whispered. A work or school day when most weren’t even in town meant the people who would be at home, say in the evening, fared the storm safely. Lucky also, that the old-timers all spent their mornings communing over coffee at Reverie or the truck stop.

_Fortuitous._

_Lucky!_

_How could they say such things?_

Breathing deeply, he shifted his weight backwards, letting his knees give way so he could slide to the floor. He knew they didn’t mean it like that. He was very thankful the storm hadn’t done worse. The entire town could have been less fortunate. 

_Hell, it could have hit the school head-on and killed everyone._

But why did it always seem that fate had it out for the people he loved!

Why did the angry tantrums of an unjust God punish good people?

It destroyed so much for so many. Most of the houses in the neighborhood would end up condemned. The school would be repaired soon enough though. The Janeway house wouldn’t be salvageable, but he hoped Kathryn would be. 

For the first hour in the waiting room, he’d clung to optimism. Perhaps she had been lucky. Maybe she’d walk away sore and exhausted from her internment, but nothing beyond the care of a good night’s sleep and a hearty meal. She hadn’t been bleeding and she’d been conscious. But he knew enough about disaster and trauma. Appearances meant very little. Deception was the mad mistress of nature.

As his second hour lapsed, alone and dazed, his heart gave in to the beckoning worry. He had trouble thinking much beyond forcing himself to continue breathing against the weight around his chest. Denial slipped like oil into a fire with each passing minute wasting away on the clock.

The passage of time didn’t necessarily herald a bad outcome, his mind reached for a spark of hope. There may be a crowd of patients in the back, some more urgent and clogging up the personnel. Gretchen would be holding her child’s hand as they chatted, rotating ice packs on a sore shoulder or hip. They’d laugh at how auspicious Kathryn seemed in the face of death and dismemberment. She could overcome even the most catastrophic of circumstances. But no. He’d be with them, wouldn’t he? Conversely, she might be clinging to life, only just, and no one dared leave her side in case…

A hand on his cheek startled him. He knew who it was before she spoke. The familiar fragrance of roses and Listerine was distinct, though today it was soured with sweat and adrenaline. 

“Chakotay.”

The voice a raw void.

He met the watery, clouded cornflower eyes.

“She’s settled in. You can come back with me now.” 

Gretchen dropped her hand to his, tugging up so he’d follow. Before she turned to go out, she pulled him into an embrace. Her small body, all spindly arms and soft warmth, pressed against him and constricted his torso until she shook with the effort.

They didn’t speak again until they navigated the elevators and long, bare halls to the quiet corner room.

The blinds shuttered out daylight and quietened the noise of the drizzle that had picked up again outside. A lamp near the bed cast an off-white glow across the unmoving figure, draped in a coarse, white blanket.

Kathryn lay propped strategically among the pillows, still as death, tucked in up to her chest. Sleeping, her breathing came easily, slow and deep.

Gretchen released his hand and sat in one of the chairs.

“The doctors were impressed by how well she fared when we… I told them how she’d been found.” She twined Kathryn’s cool fingers in hers, vigilant of the intravenous lines delivering a cocktail of medicine and saline.

Chakotay sat beside the woman, lending a quiet strength to her as she focused on her baby, once again threatened by circumstances out of her control. 

He looked at the woman spread on the narrow bed. The pillows and covers made it difficult to tell exactly what he was seeing, but he was relieved just to know she breathed on her own.

“They said we should go home soon. She’ll sleep until morning for now. I knew you’d want to see her though. She’ll go in for some surgery in the morning once they’ve gotten the swelling down and her body has had a chance to stabilize more.”

“Surgery?” A butterfly flittered beneath his ribs, delicate wings slicing into his inflamed tissues.

“They want to remove some of the hardware and repair tearing. They said the some of the metal reduced damage from the brunt of the impact, but now it’ll do more harm than good.” She couldn’t look away.

Reluctantly she stood, wiping her hands uncomfortably on her pant legs.

“I need to go outside and get some air, hon. Take your time. I’ll be at the truck.” She moved past him, retrieving her coat.

He dug into his pockets and handed her the keys.

“I’ll be just a minute.” He moved to the closer chair and picked up Kathryn’s hand.

Gretchen left, making a bee-line for the exit. 

He could already see her shoulders shaking. The nurse by the elevators offered her tissues which were hastily shoved into pockets. 

He understood. His mother reacted in a similar manner when one of her children had an accident or tragedy. She focused her energy on appearing strong for everyone else, but once the worst had passed, she turned away to grieve and rage alone, indulging in her own repression then explosive catharsis. It was a simple method to maintain a degree of sanity.

He understood, but he didn’t necessarily believe in the same release for heartache and worry. His mother told him once that he frustrated her because he seemed to fully internalize his feelings of fear and sadness. He didn’t, but he’d only ever lost himself in the most contained circumstances. His mind wouldn’t take the time to completely wrap around this situation until the middle of the quiet night, when there was nothing else there to think about. 

His hands trembled. 

Chakotay got to his feet. He smoothed Kathryn’s hair to hook behind her ears. Taking an inventory of every millimeter of skin, he brought himself back under control.

Every muscle in her body seemed relaxed. Her eyes didn’t even shudder with dreams. Her lips dropped open only a slit to allow the barest passage of air. The planes of alabaster skin shone dully, increasingly mottled in grey and purple towards the left side of her face. Under the thin material of the blanket he peeked flesh colored bandages binding her shoulder to her body, immobilizing her entire arm under the loose gown. 

They had been right. She’d been extraordinarily lucky.

Leaving a kiss on her unmarred cheek, he checked to make sure the blanket was secure around her shoulders.

“I love you.”

Another kiss.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

 

When they made it back to the shop, Gretchen charged the employees with closing and heading home early. 

Chakotay continued to the back room to gather Mollie from the kennel. Surprisingly, Mike was on the floor, occupying the puppy with a chew toy, gently pulling on the rope as she gnawed. Her coat shined clean and her injured paw was heartily wrapped in green bandages.

“I figured it would be one less thing to worry about.” Mike ruffled the puppy’s fur.

“Thank you. Was her leg bad?” Chakotay sat next to his friend.

“A bit of glass and grime and a minor sprain, but nothing that’ll really slow her down. Doc said she’ll be right as rain by next week.”

“Good.”

Chakotay gathered the little being into his arms, nuzzling her nose with his own. When he got to his feet, he turned to see a smiling elder Janeway.

“Since school is out for the rest of the week, some of the boys offered to come help clean up the property and help around the neighborhood if you’re okay with it.” Mike shrugged depreciatively, directing his gaze to Gretchen.

“It might get you back home a little sooner,” He mused. “Speaking of…do you have somewhere to stay yet? I have a room for you and Kathryn while you guys get back on your feet.”

Mike stood and grabbed his leather jacket from the top of the kennel.

“I hadn’t thought of it yet.” The smile faded. 

“I actually thought you’d be comfortable at my house. Mollie is already used to it and it’s a better long-term solution.” Chakotay offered.

“I wouldn’t want to impose on you too much, Mike. You’ve already done so much.” She sighed. 

“And I’m not sure we’d be a good addition to that bachelor pad of yours, dear.” The sauciness came back into her voice.

Mike feigned offence then he held his arms out to her. As he hugged her close, like he would his own mother, he lowered his voice and spoke. 

“My door is always open, even if it isn’t the best way to get girls. But then again, I would have two beautiful women under my roof.” He looked to the ceiling as if imagining the prospect.

Gretchen swatted at Mike playfully.

“In all seriousness though, how is Kathryn?” He released her and stepped back.

“She’ll be fine with a little time. Knowing her, she’ll be running around next week if I let her.” Another sigh.

“We’ll be able to bring her home in a few days. She’ll probably be ready for visitors tomorrow late or the next day.” Gretchen was optimistic. This comforted Chakotay to no end.

She didn’t want Kathryn to be overwhelmed by too many visitors too soon. It was especially important because her daughter wouldn’t want to be seen in such a condition, though much to her chagrin she was indeed human and subject to the frailties therein.

Chakotay knew that she didn’t always see it, but his Kathryn instilled fierce loyalty in everyone she met. She was so driven that her vision tunneled, much to her detriment. If Gretchen allowed visitors in when the doctors said it was okay, there’d be an unending stream of students and folks from all over town. Most people had either watched her grow up, helped her recover from Justin, or they’d been touched by her work in the community and with the kids. 

Her students would do anything they could to please her and that drive alone led to the school’s accolades as one of the highest performing high school science departments in Western Kansas. 

“Perfect. I know a lot of people are worried. They’ll be relieved to know.” Mike broke into Chakotay’s reflections.

Mike herded them to the back door so they could grab their bags from his car and go home. “Now go get some rest. Neither of you need to worry about anything. We’ll cover it here. The guys have the house and school under control for now. Focus on what you need to.” 

 

He realized Gretchen hadn’t truly been to his house before. She’d dropped Kathryn off or stopped by briefly to leave something. She’d never been further than the porch, though she’d spent plenty of time on the warmer winter and spring days indulging in tea and a chat with him on the bench.

Showing her the second bedroom and divesting himself of the luggage, he left her to freshen up while he put water on to heat.

It wasn’t until she had a warm mug in her hands and he’d settled across from her with a blanket over his knees, that her lips tightened and the tears silently began to blaze paths down her cheeks. 

Gretchen sniffed miserably.

Chakotay waited, the silence pregnant, for her to speak first. If she chose not to talk, he wouldn’t either. He wasn’t sure there was much to say anyways. His brain seemed to float in a toxic ether, one part surreal and numbing, the other panicked and ultimately fatalistic. 

“She’ll be okay.” She said to reassure herself more than him, and reached for a tissue.

“She will. She’s strong.”

“She’s stubborn, more like.”

“She has us.” He stared into his mug, focusing on the dark particles from the dregs scooting along the bottom. 

Gretchen reached for his hand.

“She has you.”


	17. Chapter 17

Hefting the bag of groceries up on his hip, Chakotay shoved his key into the door. He hoped he could treat the Janeway women to a nice dinner, so he’d let the boys go home from practice early and stopped by the store. With everything over the last weeks following the F3 that swept through town, he felt like they hadn’t really sat down for more than fifteen minutes at a stretch. 

Today had been Kathryn’s first time back at the school, a half-day, and it had been rough. By the time he met her in her room to take her home at lunch he'd found her slouching in her chair, her head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut, her right hand gripping her shoulder rubbing lightly beneath the material of the sling that snugged the limb into immobility. It was likely that she’d forgotten to take the pain medication. Or was it refused? She rarely forgot something, she only avoided. He figured she would have pushed herself too hard as well, the feelings of misplaced guilt at missing so much work driving her into unhealthy compensatory behaviors. Still, he considered the healthier side-effects of getting her out of the house worth it. She’d spent the last few days pacing in anticipation of her release, glaring at him as he came home, ready to pounce on news of the world outside of her 1,300-square-foot domain.

He dropped the parcel of food onto the counter and draped the strap of his satchel over one of the dining chairs. Kathryn and Gretchen sat in two of the lawn chairs on the porch talking quietly, seemingly content with their coffees, so he unloaded his purchases and set out vegetables to wash and chop for the lasagna. As he fished a knife from the utility drawer and pulled a cutting board from the peg on the wall, the voices outside the screen door rose in volume. Both women seemed distressed, but he couldn’t imagine why. He hesitantly continued to prepare the food, keeping his presence in the house as unobtrusive as possible. They didn’t even seem to notice he was home yet.

“No.” Was that a quiver? Rage or fear? Both?

“Kathryn!” A plea to end it right there.

“No, mom!” Anger.

“Kathryn Marie Janeway, I don’t believe you have a choice in this matter!” Gretchen proclaimed with force.

“Don’t speak to me like a child!” Kathryn huffed.

“I will speak to you like a child if you continue to act like one, girl.” Gretchen’s voice dropped a half-octave and held, ominous. 

He didn’t ever want to be on the receiving end of that. 

What followed was ninety seconds of silence so thick that even the trees stood still for fear of igniting the wrath of a Janeway. Chakotay held his breath. He would not be the catalyst for the simmering explosion. 

He and Kathryn rarely argued or fought in their relationship, but they were not without their tiffs, especially since they’d been under one roof. Gretchen called their affliction an Irish temper. For an indefinite time, one would be level and extraordinary, but a tip, just right, in the wrong direction and the walls crumbled into a nova of brilliant magnitude in which he hoped to never be caught. She’d admitted it was rare, especially for her daughter, but these moments did happen when she was under undue stress. Stress like recovering from a major injury and the emotional fall-out of the destruction of one’s home. Gretchen felt the pressure as well, but she could match her daughter’s ire and surpass it.

Chakotay wiped his hands on a towel and waited by the screen door out of sight. He wouldn’t intervene. Heck, he’d be suicidal to, but he wanted to be on hand when the fury passed. 

Voices lowered again, the women continued to argue, hissing at each other from the edges of their chairs. 

“She’s the one who decided to push me away.” The younger Janeway insisted.

“And she needed time to heal, Kathryn. She’s trying to fix this too.” Gretchen soothed.

“After four years? Not a single call, not a fuck given. Then suddenly she wants to play house.” Kathryn spat out.

“And did you ever try to reach out to her?” Gretchen removed her sunglasses to meet her daughter’s eyes.

“Plenty of times in the beginning! She wouldn’t see me and I never got past her husband screening her calls! She isn’t the only one who lost someone. She’s just being a selfish child.” Kathryn couldn’t hold the stare with her mother.

“You both are. And I’m fed up with it. Grow up Kathryn. She’s offering an olive branch.”

“Why?” She was shaking, angry and exhausted.

“Maybe she’s finally ready.” Softer now.

“I think it’s bull shit.” Kathryn remained unforgiving.

“She came to the hospital you know.” Silence.

A chair grated against the deck as it was pushed back from the table.

“She drove overnight after Tom called her about the tornado. You probably don’t remember much…”

Unbidden, his mind wandered to the day after destruction tore through that house on Cooper and nearly took Kathryn from him. 

_She couldn’t seem to keep her eyes more than half open, a symptom of the drugs coursing through her system. He held her good hand in both of his, gently running his thumbs along her wrist to comfort her. She lay there, conscious but dazed and quiet, seeking any contact he would give her, which is why his other hand rested warmly against her leg under the blanket, really the only spot he was sure didn’t hurt her. They’d arrived just as the pixie-like red-haired nurse was administering medication and checking Kathryn’s vitals._

_“You must be Gretchen and Chakotay. My name is Kes. I’m one of the nurses on the surgical team. I’ll be with Kathryn through this whole process. The Dr. Fitzgerald will be in shortly to complete our pre-surgery checklist. Then, we will administer a medication to keep Kathryn calm and comfortable and take her to surgery. I will stay with Kathryn through recovery until we can bring her back to her room, and continue to check on her progress until she goes home in a few days._

“I’m done talking about this, mother.” Kathryn cut in.

Chakotay moved fully into view, watching Kathryn as she turned back, halfway to the house, to confront her mother again.

“I’m too tired to argue with you anymore.” She sounded defeated but still irate.

“Then you’ll come. Chakotay needs a weekend without a house full of women and your sister needs to see you.” Why did she have to bring him into this?

“You already said she saw me last month. Isn’t that enough?”

_When Kathryn was wheeled into the room hours later, he stared in dismay at the thick bandages entombing the entirety of her upper chest and left arm from neck to wrist, doubling the natural size of the appendage. The rest of her was carefully clothed in a loose gown, other bandages peeking out from her torso just above her hips when she was shifted in the bed before the blankets were drawn over her again. Kathryn appeared to be awake, but only a sliver of blue cracked from her eyelids, her hands grasped aimlessly at the sheets as she was moved, seeking sensation and something solid in her surroundings._

Gretchen sighed, getting annoyed at the circular conversation.

“She didn’t want to upset you. She only went into your room once. You were asleep, but she wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Kathryn laughed mirthlessly. 

“Where was she before? Why didn’t she give a shit in all that time after the accident? She blamed…blames me for everything bad in her life. I don’t need that guilt on top of everything else I have right now.”

“I think you should go, Kathryn.” Chakotay chimed in quietly. I must be suicidal.

Kathryn swung around to glare at him.

“You too, Chakotay?”

He looked down at his feet.

“And what business is it of yours anyways?” She sneered, a cornered animal, wounded and vulnerable.

“Kathryn!” Her mother reprimanded her.

“I think your mother is right.” There. He sounded more resolute, like he knew what he was getting into. 

Kathryn furrowed her brow and pressed her lips tightly together, then she trod aggressively towards the house and pushed past Chakotay to go inside without another word. She continued beyond the kitchen to the living room to sulk. He left her alone and went out to sit with Gretchen.

“She’ll cool off soon enough.”

“I was telling the truth. I think it would be good for her and Elizabeth to take some steps towards being amicable again. I know it weighs pretty heavily on Kathryn.” Chakotay offered.

“And Phoebe has been in agony these last few years. She knew that her reaction and anger was misdirected, but once the situation started to level out, she didn’t really know how to apologize. That, or she didn’t think it necessary. As time passed though, she felt like the opportunity had passed her by, so she dealt with it. I think she is under the impression that Kathryn blames her.”

“Kathryn seems to think Phoebe blames her for the whole thing.” He interjected.

“The only blame to be had in this is squarely on Justin and his bad choices. He dragged my girls into this, and for that I will never forgive him. They are just too stubborn to see it. They’ve lost too much time already though. I guilted Phoebe into giving it another try. I just really hope this can be a turning point.”

“I do too.” He saw a ghost of a smile on her face.

When they went inside, he looked in on Kathryn to find her sleeping uneasily in the big chair in the corner of the living room, pillows under her arm and cushioning her back. He pulled a throw over her then crept back to the kitchen where Gretchen helped him get dinner into the oven and make a salad.

Chakotay set the table and poured water for three fresh mugs of tea, then he journeyed back into the living room. He kissed Kathryn lightly on the forehead to wake her gently.

“Dinner is ready. Do you want it here or in the kitchen?”

“I’m not hungry.” Still obstinate, she closed her eyes again, annoyed at the interruption.

“Are we really going to do this?” He heard Gretchen busying herself with dishing up the hot food.

“Yes.” Kathryn kept her eyes closed.

“You need to eat.” He insisted.

“I’m tired, and I’m not too keen on having you gang up on me with my mother again.” She shot back.

“Please? I won’t say another thing about it. Topic is erased from my mind.” He kneeled beside the chair and ran his fingers over her knees, caressing the flannel-clad thighs.

“Will my mother behave herself?” Her frown softened and she met his eyes.

“I don’t think she ever does.”

“No.” She looked away.

“No, she doesn’t or no, you still won’t come to dinner?” He asked hopefully.

“No, she doesn’t. She doesn’t ever give up either.”

“Then the conversation should already be settled. Come to dinner.”

Chakotay rose and reached to help Kathryn up from her nest of linen. She took the proffered hand and cautiously found her balance before letting go.

“I guess it smells pretty good…”

 

Gretchen headed to bed shortly after helping Chakotay clean up the kitchen. Kathryn hefted the trash and took it outside to the bin, taking her time in the chilly spring air to enjoy the solitude. She leaned against the garage door, face turned to the cloudless sky, eyes searching the stars for comfort.

That’s where he found her fifteen minutes later when he brought out a zip-up sweatshirt. He pulled the material over her shoulders then stood next to her for a moment. When she leaned into him he held his arms open for her, welcoming her silent acquiescence. She nestled into his chest and stayed there for long minutes quietly, breathing him in with long shuddering breaths.

“I love you, Chakotay.” She mumbled into his collar as she tilted her head up to look at him.

“I love you more, Kathryn.” He gazed down at her.

“I love you most.” A quick response. She seemed so sure.

“I love you mostest.” Naturally.

“That’s not a word.” Of course.

“I made it just for you.” He smiled into her hair then left a kiss there.

“I’ll go.” She sighed and pulled away.

“Are you sure?” He brought his palms to her cheeks.

“No. But I’ll do it anyway.” 

Kathryn leaned into his hands, her eyes slipping shut at the sensation of his skin against hers.

“I’m sorry for earlier,” she whispered.

He had to admit that as tempestuous as her anger seemed to be, she cooled off quickly and forgave readily. As stubborn a woman as she was, she could admit when she was wrong. Unlike many adults he’d met in his travels, she also had the wherewithal to know when to apologize. Hopefully this also meant she was willing to apply this sensibility to the situation with her sister.

“I know.”

 

By breakfast the next morning, Kathryn was back to her more sedate self, though her exhaustion still showed through as she lumbered around in her slippers lazily making coffee while Chakotay warmed raisin bread on a griddle with butter.

“When did mom leave this morning?” She asked him the question, feigning nonchalance.

“Around six.”

“I need to apologize to her and let her know I’ve changed my mind.”

“We can stop by the shop later if you’d like.” He set the plates on the table.

Kathryn nodded and sat with her steaming mug.

“I think I’ll use the weekend while you two are away to catch up on some maintenance around the house. Mom and Kiopak are coming down with Elenia in May to get her settled. They want to stop by for a weekend to visit when they come through.”

“In May? Isn’t that a bit early for Elenia to come down?”

“She’s jumping right into school with a few summer courses.”

“Good for her.”

“It is. I’m excited that you get to meet more of the family too. You’ll love them.”

“Of course. If they’re anything like you I imagine it won’t be hard.” Kathryn smiled around a mouthful of toast.

“And I think they’ll love you too.” His comment made her choke on her coffee.

“I’m serious.” He insisted as he took another bite.

“And you say it with a straight face!” She laughed incredulously.

“What’s not to love?”

“Were you here yesterday, sir?”

He moved to take the cup from her hand and set it on the table, then grabbed her chair between her legs and dragged it right up to his, planting a kiss on her shocked lips.

“They’ll more than love you, not just because you are a wonderful woman, but because I love you and we make each other happy.”

“I suppose.” She rolled her eyes at him.

Chakotay didn’t let go of the chair, instead he held her fast and showered her with small, loud, sloppy kisses.

The noises drew Mollie from the spare room, where she joined in, jumping up on their laps to lick at their faces excitedly.


	18. Chapter 18

Only a few days after Kathryn made the decision to see her sister again, another thing dropped into place for the Janeways; an apartment on the edge of town was officially waiting for them to move in. The house would take at least another five or six months to be rebuilt, so Gretchen had immediately started searching for a rental in town and in the surrounding communities, ever one to cherish her independence. She’d reasoned that she didn’t want to crowd Chakotay, nor her daughter, so she needed to find them something more amicable while the house came together. It was a small two bedroom that was part of a fourplex. It was well-kept and it took dogs, so they could have Roxy. 

Chakotay considered the situation optimistically, but found he was anxious about going back to living completely on his own. Yeah, he spent a night or two a week with Kathryn, usually alternating weekends at her house, but most of the time, his house was still and quiet, absent of the whoosh of Kathryn or Gretchen pacing and generally exuding an energy that ignited the very floorboards. 

For the last month, he’d spent most of his waking hours at work or with Kathryn and slipped in next to her in bed every night, itching to hold her tightly to him lest she disappeared and reality exerted a ghastly truth he couldn’t handle- that she hadn’t come out of it okay and he was only dreaming she was still beside him. The first couple of weeks found him worrying about her as she healed and slowly gained back mobility, so he was wary of too much physical activity or contact. It wasn’t much of an issue anyways, as she was usually fast asleep by the time he got out of the bathroom and made sure the house was buttoned up for the night.

He’d grown profoundly intimate with her recently, beyond simple closeness, in a way one only experiences when he or she wrangles the fall-out and loss of a major trauma. Intimate was tears shed in a drunken stupor when down on one’s luck or making love and connecting to the other physically. Love was embracing another on a higher level and absorbing sorrow to lighten the other’s load. 

This…

This was something even more terrific, both terrible and magnificent. The phases of grim depressive bouts after physical therapy, the episodes of hopelessness as the realization hit that the material loss didn’t really matter, but the symbolic destruction of what’s been amassed in a life- memories, trinkets, and photos, and the near-death experience leave the heart weary and fragile. 

As she clung to him in the last few days, desperate to share his energy and ground herself in his being, his spirit meshed so thoroughly with hers that he didn’t always realize they were two separate people. Were those memories of playing in a wheat field, or fumbling with a teenage companion behind the shed hers? His? Were the stories she’d told him his own now? Did she share his soul in the same way? Could she feel feathery breaths of leaves against her nape as she hid in the forest from her cousin? Did she feel the sea breeze ruffle the hem of her shirt before she dove into the frigid waves of the Pacific?

That night, when Gretchen was packing up her belongings and straightening her room, Chakotay sat on his bed, watching Kathryn fold her clean laundry into a plastic bin. 

“If I asked you…” He started quietly.

“Hmm?” She looked up from smoothing the wrinkles from a pair of slacks.

“If I asked you, would you stay with me?”

“I am with you, silly. Why would you think I’d leave?”

“I mean, would you move into this house with me? You and Roxy would have plenty of room, we even have space for an office in the third bedroom.” 

She put the clothes down and sat beside him.

“Aren’t you sick of me yet? You haven’t had a moment to yourself in weeks.”

“I could never get sick of you.” He mumbled.

“Are you sure?”

“I couldn’t be surer.” He brushed a kiss across her cheek.

“Then yes.” She stood resolutely and unpacked the bin. 

Without another word, she took the empty tote to her mother in the next bedroom and told her about her plans to stay.

“You can have my boxes mom. You need help with anything, I don’t need to pack?” She said it in such a matter of fact way, that it was like it had been her idea all along. 

“No, I just need to throw a few things into the last box and I’m finished as well. I’m glad you’ll be living closer to the shop. I can make you open more often.”

Gretchen turned to project her voice into the other room: “About damn time, young man.”

 

The following evening after school, they loaded up Chakotay’s truck with the boxes and helped Gretchen get settled into the new place.

“It’s not quite like home, but it will do for now. At least I don’t have to listen to Kathryn giggling and groaning on the other side of the wall anymore.”

Kathryn blushed to the roots of her hair and quickly busied herself with unwrapping the last of the dishes and disposing of the newspaper into the trash. 

“I’ll miss Mollie though, even though she snores.”

“Mom!”

“I suppose I’ll miss you too, and that man of yours.”

“You’re welcome at the house any time, and we’re still only a couple miles away.” Chakotay chimed in.

“It’s not the same.”

“I know, you get your own shower.”

“It’ll be amazing!”

 

When Chakotay and Kathryn got home, they didn’t quite know what to do with the house to themselves. They knew what they wanted to do, but Kathryn wasn’t well enough for a night of whimsy yet, but as soon as she received a clean bill of health, they planned on another short getaway to Kansas City or even Denver if they could find the time.

Kathryn took him by the hand and led him to the bathroom anyway. The weekends of late had usually been heralded by a shared shower, of which they hadn’t indulged since Gretchen had been in the house. This wasn’t because the elder Janeway would mind, but because Kathryn was still hesitant with public affection in most instances, let alone blatant sexuality around her mother. Perhaps it was a remnant of a Catholic upbringing. It must have been a trait from her father though, as Chakotay was pretty sure Gretchen had very few hang-ups on PDA. The woman probably had several risqué tales of depravity she could regale from the free-loving decades before she put down roots with the Janeway clan. 

He loosed the clip at Kathryn’s neck and gently released the sling, lowering her arm to her side slowly. Showers, well anything, were easier now that most of the trappings of her injuries had been shed a few days ago. She only had to wear the cumbersome sling for a few more days, then she’d be finished with the physical therapy for her arm. Both of them were eager to return to a more normal state, not just because it made life much easier, but summer was fast approaching and they wanted to make the most of the wonderful weather and time together. Summer school still allowed them an extra day on the weekends and a few weeks between sessions to themselves. It would be heaven. 

Kathryn flexed her fingers tentatively, working the muscles in her arm before removing the rest of her clothes silently. Chakotay stood, holding up the door jamb, enjoying the view she presented. She turned back toward him, catching his eyes and pinning him with a glare, displeased with his clothed state.

“Well, are you just going to peep or are you going to join me?”

Her right eyebrow arched playfully and she turned to pull back the shower curtain.

He sauntered over to her, a wide grin on his face. His palm found the tender skin of her lower back as she bent to adjust the water temperature then pull the knob to divert water from the faucet to the shower head. 

When she stepped into the hot flow, he followed, nudging in behind her after quickly stripping. She kept her head under the water, letting her chin rest against her chest as her hair fell forward wetly. Chakotay took the opportunity the map the new scars along her left shoulder, surgical indentations, still a bright pink forming neat lines that would fade to almost nothing in a few years’ time. Her shoulders rose with her deep breaths, and his thumbs gently traced the contours of her neck. His fingers slid down to the hollows made by her collar bones, then to the knobs of her shoulders.

Kathryn turned her back to the spray and looked up to him, water dripping into her eyes. Her palms landed lightly on his chest, water pooling between her fingers before overflowing and streaming over his ribs and down his stomach to tickle the crease of his hips and diverge along his groin and thighs. She seemed mesmerized by the water’s path, and she moved her fingers scant millimeters to change the direction of the current. Then, the kisses followed. One here, on the strange dimpling near his pectoral muscle. Another there, over one of his ribs, catching the water between her fingers and lapping at the stream. He dropped his hands to his sides, momentarily unable to decide where they should go. Only a moment later, he lifted his hands to rest them on her hips. At his touch, she sidled up to him and buried her face in the hollow of his neck, her eyelashes fluttering against his throat and her hair sticking to his shoulders. 

He’d missed this. 

She kissed softly, lingering as she explored his throat, until she reached his lips.

“Are you going to be okay this weekend?” He asked, breathless. 

He knew that she was clinging, not just because she wanted the proximity after so long, but because she was worried about the next few days. Gretchen was coming in the morning to get Kathryn to go to Easter at Phoebe’s. 

“Yes…No.” She deliberated.

“Yes.” Her voice was firm and she turned her head, letting it fall to his shoulder.

“I’m still not happy about it. I don’t know how to make her forgive me.”

“Forgive yourself.”

“What? I don’t have anything to be forgiven for.”

“I know that. Phoebe knows that, she doesn’t want to push you and risk making things worse. So does your mother. Have you forgiven yourself?”

Chakotay reached for the shampoo and started to massage it into her scalp.

“Of course.”

“Really?”

“Sure.” She quieted.

“I think that’s what’s holding you two back. You both blame yourselves for something that was out of your control.”

“Phoebe doesn’t have anything to do with what happened.” 

“I’ve found that humans can be illogical and annoyingly predictable creatures in situations like this, Kathryn.”

He paused, as she leaned her head back into the water, rinsing the soap away, then dropping her head back onto him. She stayed quiet, allowing him to continue.

“You both have been caught up in blaming yourselves or each other for this, only making half-hearted attempts in the beginning to resolve anything, until you felt too estranged to try anymore. I don’t think anyone knows what is truly going on. We just want everyone to start communicating again.”

Thinking for a moment, he ran a soapy cloth along her back, circling her hips, and moving up to her chest.

“Your mom and I don’t want to force you to make up and pretend nothing happened. What we really want is for you to start a dialogue. Nothing will be the same, we know that. It’d be crazy to expect that. I will personally drive out and come get you if it doesn’t work out this weekend. Just give it a chance. Talk, just for ten minutes. Give yourselves that.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Pushing me to do this, even though I’m still not sure about it.” She shrugged and turned, leaning back against him as his hands smeared lather along her flanks. 

“I know you’re there for me. I know that one of us should take the leap to break the awkwardness between us. It’s like one of those times you have a difficult day and find yourself angry, but you get to lunch and realize you don’t even remember why you’re really angry. Then you figure, in for a penny, in for a pound, stay angry just for the sake of being that way.”

She laughed dejectedly.

“I’m that one person in the supermarket who realized they’re in the wrong but continued being a jerk because they wanted to stick to their guns and make everyone miserable before admitting that we can fix this.” Her mumbling yielded to her exhaustion, making less sense.

She sighed when his hands stopped at her hips again, fingers splayed wide across her abdomen, and gripped lightly, turning her so she faced him again.

“You aren’t making anyone miserable but yourselves, Kathryn. Your feelings are your own and there is nothing wrong with them. Sometimes both people need a nudge to see if they can salvage what’s there. That’s what your mother and I are doing. Again, if it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. I can come get you, and we won’t talk about it again. But if it does work, you’ve lost nothing, but gained so much.”

Chakotay nuzzled against the wet skin at Kathryn’s temple, bowing his head into the spray. He felt her reach for the soap then her hand returned to his chest, gliding the thick cleanser in irregular patterns across the taut skin of his torso and lower, teasingly.

“Do you know what I’m feeling now?” She inquired flirtatiously, changing the subject to something more palatable. 

 

Chakotay took his time relishing the quiet and calm that blanketed the house in the late morning. He stood, wrapped in his bulky terry robe, sipping cooling tea. The last of the morning chill dissipated slowly, leaving the dew-dampened deck slick and warm under his feet. The sky above stretched in picturesque bright blue, dotted with wisps of white every few miles.

Kathryn had left two hours earlier, her mother pulling up in the ’89 Civic she’d gotten to replace their totaled car. He wished them a safe trip and silently hoped the weekend would go well.

The phone in the kitchen rang shrilly, drawing him back inside the house.

Mike was on the line, asking if Chakotay would like to join in on a guys’ afternoon with Tom. 

“Sure! It’ll be a good break from the stuff I have to do around the house today.”

“Do you need any help?”

“Not terribly. I’m just going to run by Kathryn’s and see how it’s progressing, then do some stuff around my house.”

“Finally going to fix the fence?”

“Yeah. But I need to get the hole in the roof of the garage fixed so I can get all of that crap out of the other spare room.”

“Sure you don’t want help? Tom and I can just bring the beer and snacks to your place and make it an afternoon of it.”

“If you guys really don’t mind it. I’ve got drinks and food here, consider it your thanks for helping.”

“You got a deal, we’ll get you all set in a couple hours. No reason to work harder than you have to. What are friends for? Need anything from my shop, or do you have everything there?”

“Maybe an extra pry bar. I only have one.”

“Got it, bud. See you in an hour?”

“Perfect.” Chakotay ended the call.

He went to the bedroom and grabbed his jeans and a long-sleeved Henley, shedding his robe and changing. Grabbing his keys, he pulled the shoes by the door onto cold feet. 

He spent the next half hour at the house on Cooper, surveying the progress. There was little left outside of the foundation. The stump of the massive downed tree was gone, fill dirt in the hole and a sapling in place, supported by dowels and a mound of mulch. Most of the back yard contained tarped piles of new building materials and the fixtures and materials salvaged from the old structure. Once the insurance adjuster had finished, the construction company was in the next day, clearing the wreckage and discussing the rebuild Gretchen had approved. He had been shocked by the speed and ease of the recovery, everything happening a matter of days after the storm. After Easter, the crew would finally begin construction on the house.

When he got home, he headed straight to the shed in the back to grab the tools they would need to work on the roof and mend the fence. If they got everything done, he could have time to repair the tile in the bathroom and a few other smaller repairs that kept getting pushed to the end of his to-do list. 

_Heck, if I get the garage roof fixed and get the storage bins cleared out of the house, that would be enough!_

He was sick of his office being perpetually cluttered with everything he usually kept in the garage but wouldn’t do well in the shed. That room would also be nice to use as another bedroom when family came to visit. He knew that Kathryn appreciated a space for work at home too, and the office would serve well in that capacity. It only had a twin bed, small shelf, and desk now, which meant they could furnish it together and make the space an “ours” space. 

Kathryn had mentioned a few times how it felt weird to move in with someone, simply because everything seems to be a “mine versus yours” situation since no one really had anything acquired together yet. Fortunately, Chakotay hadn’t put much thought into furnishing the house beyond the essentials. Though since he’d been with Kathryn, the living room had become much cozier with small touches like throws and pillows. She’d also helped him pick out the table and chairs on the back porch, as he’d finally realized that the amount of time she liked to spend outside when she was at home called for it. If it wasn’t frigid or deathly hot, she enjoyed sipping coffee on the porch and reading one of her books.

She’d told him early on that she hadn’t always liked the outside. She’d often spent the best parts of summer holed up in her bedroom upstairs, buried in a book or some kind of science project. Her mother had to practically bribe her to go on their camping trips or afternoons in the park. As she grew older, she insisted, she’s developed a fascination with the simple beauty she saw in the world around her. She appreciated the fresh air and the symphony of tiny sounds that came to her in twilight. Blades of dry grass scratching against the cement blocks lining the patio, crickets playing their songs near the water spigot, and the rustling of the trees as they resisted the Kansas gusts all blended together to make something that brought her a degree of peace that no other part of the world could. 

When he really thought back to his childhood, he could see some similarities. He didn’t think that he particularly despised the outdoors as much as they seemed to just be associated with things he hadn’t thought he cared about when he was young. He’d never been fond of the traditions and skills his father tried to teach him, so when he’d been dragged from the house, no matter how much he loved digging his toes into the dirt or floating in the cool water, he didn’t want to spend all his time learning how to cook on a fire when there was one at everyone’s house that cooked with the turn of a dial. 

Now, Chakotay found a similar quiet balance within himself when he worked with nature, whether he was chopping wood or enjoying a picnic in a field under the stars. Just being able to shed his shoes and socks and walk bare-footed in the grass and fertile soil had an amazing impact on his soul. Kathryn could sit with him or lie next to him in the grass, staring at the clouds in silence for long stretches, their spirits content to meditate while their fingers weaved together, grounding them to each other. 

Mike and Tom pulled up to the house and came around the back to find their friend in his work boots at the edge of the porch situating the ladder against the back of the garage. 

“Just in time, boys!” He called.

Chakotay pointed towards one of the chairs on which was a compact cooler with cans of beer. 

“Grab a cold one, let’s have a sit before we get to work.”

Each of the men took a spot and opened their drinks, leaning back and savoring the perfection of the moment. 

“So, how’s it been going for you guys? I feel like we’ve barely seen each other lately with everything going on…and only a couple weeks of school left. Thank God.” Chakotay rambled.

“Doing well. I’ve started dating someone. It’s been a couple weeks.” Mike took a swig and put his can on the edge of the table.

His friends looked at him in shock.

“Weeks? Mike, ya sick?” Tom exclaimed.

“I know, I know, crazy, huh? No. I met Susan at the grocery store, silly really. But we just hit it off. It’s been years since I was interested in more than just a fling, but Susan’s got that something that just draws me to her.” Mike looked past Tom, towards downtown.

“Boobs?” Tom jested, then grew serious again. “No, really though, I’m happy for you, man. When do we get to meet her?”

“I don’t think she’s ready for you yet, Tom. I don’t want to scare her away yet.” Mike looked towards Chakotay, who’d remained quiet outside of the random chuckle. 

“How about you? Ready for the end of your first year here? Plans for the summer?” Tom asked Chakotay. 

“Nothing yet, except for that visit from the family. I might take a road trip somewhere. Mostly I want to keep working on the house and spend some time with Kathryn.”

“You two are turning into old men!” Tom smiled.

“What are you doing this summer Tom?” Chakotay feigned offense at the jibe.

“I’m gonna grow up a little myself and propose to Lanna. It’s time, and she’s been dropping hints since March.”

“You? Settle down? I never thought I’d see the day” Chakotay poked Tom in the chest.

“Lanna’s a good woman. She’ll keep you in line, that girl. Always been that way. Makes things interesting.” Mike wiggled his eye brows.

“Don’t tell me you and Lanna dated?” Tom inquired.

“Tom, you know as well as I do, I’ve been on a date with just about every eligible woman in town and the surrounding ten miles. It can’t surprise you.”

“Eh, I think she mentioned it once ages ago. Something about you having trouble changing a tire…”

“She would remember that of all things!” Mike couldn’t quite meet anyone’s eyes. “Two dates, with all the stops, and she only remembers that!”

“What about my cousins or sisters, you ever date them?” Tom laughed as he asked Mike the question, another dig aimed at Chakotay to get a rise out of the man.

Chakotay leaned forward, suddenly more interested.

“Which one?”

“Any of them!”

“Hm. Phe got married right out of high school, I didn’t have a chance. Vanessa never had time for guys when she lived here, or believe me, I’d have tried. I’m not saying a word about your sisters, I’m not suicidal. Now Katie,” he looked to Chakotay, “she’s a good catch.”

“She’s smart and sweet once you get on her good side. We tried it for a few months a couple years ago. She’s amazing, but we just never clicked you know? I don’t think we’d ever fit well, but it was fun. We’re much better off as friends. It’s hard to meet a Janeway woman and not care for her. I’m happy she’s found someone like you Chakotay. You’re good for her.” Mike offered.

“Agreed.” Tom raised his can into the air, breaking the seriousness. 

“To maturity and beautiful women who put up with ilk like us!” He toasted.

The men finished their beers and set to working on the house, finishing their tasks quickly then inhaling the frozen pizza Chakotay baked for lunch. 

Tom left for home around four. He had to help his mother get everything ready for family to come in the next day and get a nap in before dutifully attending mass with his parents and sisters. 

Mike stayed around a little longer once he found out Chakotay had other projects he intended to work on.

“I’ve got nothing better to do besides, and it’ll get done faster with both of us here.”

“Thanks.” Chakotay put some of the tools back into the shed, then propped the kitchen door open so Mollie could come out into the yard, now that it’d been cleared of debris from their work.

She bounded out of the house and bowled into Mike first, licking at his knees and hopping excitedly until he kneeled, earning him a thwack on the jaw when her head swiveled around eagerly.

“Goodness, you’re getting big!” Mike commented when she finally calmed down a bit and allowed him to stand, hopping over towards Chakotay and nudging him until he scratched her affectionately. 

“What do you want to do next?” Mike asked.

“I’d like to get the stuff back into the garage and arrange the office really quick, then start on the bathroom. Are you sure you want to stick around? I don’t want to keep you forever.”

“Eh, I’ll at least get you started.” Mike grabbed a handful of pretzels from an open bag on the counter they’d been snacking on. 

“Where do you want the stuff in the garage?” He added as they made their way into the third bedroom to grab a stack of bins and the random odds and ends cluttering the compact space.

“Most of it can go up in the rafters, but the rest of the more useful stuff can just go on the bench. I’ve got that cleaned off and repaired already.” Chakotay hefted the box with his sports equipment and boxing gloves.

“Stuff like this can go under the bench so I can sort it out later.” He looked pointedly into his box, as Mike looked under the flap of his to see what was inside.

“Scuba gear in Kansas?” Mike shook his head and left the room, arms full.

“I can drive to the coast in less than a day. I adore the water.” Chakotay shrugged.

“Kansas is about as unwatery as you can get.” Mike replied.

Cutting ahead of him, Chakotay squeezed the box between the wall and his thigh while he opened the door to the garage, activating the electric door so they’d could utilize the light outside.

“So, tell me more about this Susan woman?” Chakotay slid his box under the workbench. 

Mike put his box next to Chakotay’s and they left to get more.

“She’s cute. More on the average side. She’s driven. Works in civil engineering.”

“Oh?” Chakotay asked.

“She goes into Wichita a lot for work, but lives in Cimarron. Says she likes the quiet and she can work from home just as well. She has an office in Garden, which is why she was there shopping. We bumped into each other, literally, trying to get to peanut butter and the rest is history.”

They went back to get the last of the loose stuff in the office, storing the items in the rafters of the garage.  
Mike stopped, wiping the dust from his hands on a kitchen towel before they started moving some of the furniture around in the office.

“There’s just something about her. She’s shy, but funny. Great taste in movies, and she likes my motorcycle.” He and Chakotay pushed the desk against the wall under the window.

“The new one? I haven’t even seen it yet!” Chakotay pulled the blinds up and cracked the window open to help air out the room.

“It’s not Betty, but she’ll do once I finish breaking her in. Rides so smooth though.” Mike got a dreamy look in his eyes.

“I hope Susan’s willing to share you with a v-twin.” They put the boxes with books onto the bookshelf for later before Chakotay started adjusting the utilitarian bed frame in the corner.

“She likes to ride too, so I get the best of both worlds. You should get a bike someday. Nothing like it.” Mike slid the mattress from the closet, letting it fall onto the solid frame.

“Maybe someday. I’ve got way too much to do right now.” Chakotay kneed the cot up against the wall, and produced a bag of bedding from the closet. He dropped the bag onto the bed for later.

“We should all get together for a camping trip this summer. Now that we’re all in proper couples, it could make for a fun week.” 

“That’s more my speed, but I’ll warn you, I think I’m the only Native American ever that can’t dependably start a fire. I think I got passed up when they were handing out the fire-making gene.” Chakotay led Mike across the hall to the half bath where they could use the materials he’d left in the tub to fix the tiles.

“No worries big guy, that’s why we have fuel and torches!” Mike seemed overly excited at the prospect.

“Pyromaniac, huh?” Chakotay finished prying up the damaged tiles, depositing them in the trashcan.

“You’re really asking?” Mike handed him the adhesive putty and a scraper, taking tiles from a plastic wrapper so they would be ready.

“I’ll see if Kathryn’s up for it. Maybe sometime in July.” Chakotay thought it would be a good break for the both of them before the next school year.

“She’s in charge of bribing Gretchen for baked goods to go with us.” Mike insisted, handing his friend one tile at a time as he placed them carefully.

“Indeed.” Chakotay agreed, situating the last tile.

They moved on to the last small job, Chakotay insisting that Mike take some time for himself and start for home after.

“Oh, did I tell you that I have an interview in Dodge for a position at the community college? I’d actually get to use my Master’s and teach some classes in math and education. It’d put me down to part time at the high school, but then they’d probably make you head coach. It’s a win-win. Plus, I might move to Garden, so I’d be close to Lucy too.”

“That’s awesome news! We really need to hang out more, how did I miss all of this?”

“There’s a lot on your plate.” Mike retrieved his jacket from the back porch, readying to leave.

“See you Monday, Mike. Drive home safe.” Chakotay said from the porch.

“Always.”

Chakotay checked the time then sat at the kitchen table, pulling the phone across the kitchen to call to see how Kathryn was doing with her family. He considered it positive that she’d not called asking for a ride home all day.


	19. Chapter 19

The old cassette player propped the door just over halfway open, quietly humming its way through a piece he recognized…Schumann perhaps. Chakotay slowed his steps, softening his gait, then he stopped at the threshold of her classroom. Looking around, he spotted Kathryn sitting on her heels, awkwardly pulling items from the depths of one of the storage closets in the back of her classroom. He smiled when he heard her snort, frustrated at the packrat tendencies of the students and the supply buildups from the hectic year. 

Once, she’d explained to him that she assigned one student from each grade to maintain the shelf of protective equipment and other items their peers used in the class throughout the year. Apparently, the bottom of the four was allocated to the freshmen. She’d noted that the proclivity of freshman to keep everything made the shelf the worst to clean out each year, so she tried to get it done early in her classroom pack-up for the summer. Beside her was a pile of half-used papers, droppers, loose gloves, and dismantled stands. It was a mess of disorganization that made even his head ache. The trashcan to her right was also brimming with unsalvageable supplies, most of which should have been thrown out long ago by the students rather than stored.

Holding the handle of the door, she heaved herself to her feet. Her hand left the handle to rub at her lower back while her other lifted the hot plate to the neat pile she’d started at eye level. Her fingers caressed the appliance, floating reverently on the white surface. She smiled when she heard him walking up behind her. He couldn’t see her face, but he knew; she smiled with her entire body, shoulders dropping a scant distance, relaxed, and her ears moved slightly when her facial muscles contracted dislodging the errant hairs she’s hooked there out of her face. 

She picked up her clipboard and wrote something in one of the boxes, presumably the number of plates she’d accumulated in her search, feigning ignorance of his approach. Putting the pencil and forms back down, she reached up to tally the goggles on the wire rack on the shelf above, running her fingertips across the smooth, beveled edge as she counted, lips moving silently.

Chakotay took the opportunity to steal his arms about her waist and press against her gently. He rested his chin against her temple and let his eyes slip closed as he enjoyed the contact for a moment, pure and warm and simple. She exhaled slowly, melting at his touch. She made a low, contented sound deep in her throat when she laid her head against his shoulder, her hair tickling the skin at his collar. 

“How’s the packing so far? Did you get your office swapped around?” She asked, pulling away so she could turn to him.

“Just about. We just got all the equipment inventoried and put in storage. There wasn’t much in the office outside the dozen bags of M&Ms hidden around Mike’s stuff. Man has an addiction.” He concluded with a chaste kiss to her nose.

“Are you about ready to stop for lunch? Mom said she wouldn’t mind a bit of help bringing everything over.” She responded to his affection with tightening arms, her hands going into the back pockets of his jeans.

“Do we need to leave now or can I help you for a while? I don’t want you up on wobbly stools or narrow counters on tiptoes messing with all that glassware.”

She pulled away from him at a sound down the hallway, putting a respectable distance between them. When their gazes met again, she quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Actually, Tom already offered to take that hazardous duty. More insisted than offered, really. I’m not going to break you know.” Her expression shifted. 

“I’m not entirely sure why, but he traded me- I’m inventorying his dissection kits. I think your mother-hen tendencies are rubbing off on everyone.” She went to her desk to retrieve her shoes. 

“Last week even Misha wouldn’t let me do something or other. He’s twice my age.”

“We just worry.” He joined her in the front of the room.

“I know, but I’m pretty durable.” She observed.

“Yes. We still all worry.”

She straightened and grabbed her wallet and coffee mug.

“Shall we?” She gestured to the door while she efficiently steered the conversation elsewhere.

“After you.” He waved her ahead of him.

 

They helped Gretchen set up the platters of food in the school lounge before walking to each room and inviting the staff for lunch.

The spread was accompanied by a card from the Janeways to AHS, thanking everyone for their help and support over the recent months.

By the time everyone was ready for some of the famous pie, they realized there wasn’t enough cutlery for dessert. Kathryn and Phil Neelix left to get supplies from the kitchen while the others began cleaning up the empty containers of sandwiches and chilled soups.

Chakotay pulled Gretchen with him to the sink to wash the serving utensils.

“I was wondering if I could talk to you in private after lunch?” He inquired.

“I suppose, but I do need to get back soon. Is this about the girls?” She alluded to her daughters’ tenuous relationship. 

_Her mother called him when they left Phoebe’s, so he knew they’d be home around six; early enough for a relaxed dinner, maybe a film on tv, and a respectable bed time._

_Chakotay wasn’t sure how Kathryn would be feeling. Gretchen had sounded optimistic over the phone, but that was before hours sequestered in the car._

_Kathryn came in the door, haggard, but smiling. He stayed standing in the middle of the living room, still not sure what she needed now that she was home. Was she tired? Sad? Happy? Did she need quiet? Should they talk about it? Should he just hold her quietly until the world was normalized?_

_She dropped her overnight bag into her chair and approached him swiftly, standing toe to toe with him by the time the screen door bumped shut. He opened his arms to her silently. She hesitated then leaned into him, quietly accepting his welcome._

_“Are you okay?” He breathed her in, filling his lungs with her, expanding his chest, squeezing her closer._

_“I am. I will be.” She didn’t offer more before pulling away and taking her bag to their bedroom.  
Chakotay started pulling out the bowl of ingredients he’d prepared and found the pans he needed._

_“Hungry?” His voice carried to her from the hall a while later, when he heard the water shut off from the en suite sink._

_“It’s still early.” She proclaimed from the bathroom as she replaced the toiletries from her travel kit._

_“I’m making grilled cheese and a salad.” He heard drawers closing._

_“Pickles?” She asked, hoping, as the condiment was essential to her favorite comfort food._

_“Yes, I remembered those too.” He shook his head, laughter rumbling, trapped in his chest._

_“Then yes, I’m famished.” She came into the kitchen in a t-shirt and leggings, her face clean and her hair loose around her shoulders._

_“Do you want to talk about it?” He offered as they sat down with their plates._

“No, something else. I haven’t dug too much into that since you guys got back, so you probably know more about it than I do.” He grimaced.

“Okay, I’ll come to your room after I’ve said good bye to Kathryn.” She promised, then turned back to the table, just as Kathryn and Mr. Neelix got back with a box of plastic forks. 

 

When he finished boxing up the history books, he took the containers to the office, where the books were to go to the district for recycling and he’d come back next year to a new set. Luckily, they didn’t reply on the books for summer school. It was about time too, considering the texts he used the last two semesters was at least ten years old and severely lacking in anything that’d happened since 1960. 

He knew Kathryn was still in Tom’s room, finishing the kits in his cabinets. Tom had stopped by to let him know that Kathryn’s room was done, so there was no reason she couldn’t take off for the day at lunch. Chakotay was fortunate Tom had offered to help in Kathryn’s room, as it made it easier to get her away from work and all to himself for the beautiful afternoon. Picnic basket in hand, Phil stopped him as he left the office. 

“I added some extra cookies to the basket, I figured you wouldn’t mind.” The stout man smiled up at him.

“It’s perfect. Wine, too?” Chakotay saw the bottle when Phil lifted the top of the basket.

“Yeah. Misha suggested a really good white.” The cook handed the basket over.

“Thank you.” Chakotay nodded to the man and hurried the lunch to his truck, securing it under the blanket he’d brought for the occasion. He’d enlisted some of the staff to help him give Kathryn an afternoon away. She’d pushed hard every day since she’d gotten back, and they thought she could use some time to unwind and spend with Chakotay before his family came in and they turned right around to start summer school. 

Back in the building, he went to the biology lab, expecting to find Kathryn on the floor counting supplies. Instead, he arrived to find Tom talking with her as he locked up the cabinets. 

“Just in time, Coach. She’s all yours.” Tom grinned, ushering his cousin to the exit.

“In time for what?” Her eyes narrowed.

“It’s a surprise.” Chakotay held her hand as they walked out of the building.

“I’m not overly fond of surprises.” She reminded him as she stepped up into the cab.

“I know. But it’s worth it, I promise.” He rolled his window down, then started the engine.

“What about work? We can’t leave…” 

“You’re covered. Don’t worry. Just breathe and enjoy the ride.”

“I’ve heard that before.” Her voice held a hint of suspicion, but she smiled anyways, elbowing him in the ribs.

He drove west of town and south, past the Paulsen homestead and over the county line until twenty minutes later, they were in the middle of nowhere on a dirt road. Fields spanned the horizon as far as they could see, oceans of waving greens and tans as different crops grew and matured in large swaths. Turning out at the site of a deteriorating barn, abandoned and frozen in the middle of the infinite turmoil of life around it, Chakotay parked. He turned towards his love, brushing a kiss across her hand. When he got out, he grabbed the blanket, draping it over his shoulder, then seized the heavy basket his friends had helped him with. 

Kathryn met him around the front of the truck, staring happily at his cargo.

“An afternoon escape.” He nodded towards an area of tamped down grass, ready for their picnicking pleasure.

“How’d you even manage to get all of this together? Is it okay to just take over here?”

“It was a community effort. Oh, and we aren’t trespassing, Sam said it’s her grandparent’s property, so we can take our time as long as we don’t leave anything behind.” He spread the thick blanket on the soft ground.

“This is too much, Chakotay. How do you even come up with this stuff?”

“You inspire me.” He grinned teasingly, sitting in a corner by the basket and patting the blanket next to him.

Arranging the fare on the blanket before them, he started opening containers while she unwrapped the plates and silverware from the over-sized cloth napkins.

“It’s lovely. And something I didn’t even know I needed.” Kathryn sucked in a deep breath, arching her back and tilting her face up into the sun.

Chakotay added food to their plates, arranging the decadent fruits and vegetable tarts carefully.

“We both needed it. We still have a lot coming up in the next couple weeks. I thought we should take a couple hours to just be.”

“Thank you.” She beamed at him, picking up her plate and spearing a chunk of pineapple as he poured wine into the coffee mugs he’d brought.

She looked at the drink ware skeptically, as if she wasn’t aware that a liquid other than coffee could be housed in the thick ceramic vessel. 

“I didn’t have any proper glasses at the house. We don’t usually do wine...”

“It’s perfect.” She drank tentatively, tasting speculatively.

When she finished her food, she lay back, eyes wandering the sky as she patted her full stomach.

Chakotay put the dishes back into the basket and joined her, pushing everything else off the blanket. His arms surrounded her as he settled on his side, bringing her closer to spoon into him. He saw her eyes close as she brought her hands to cover his and she moved closer into him with a happy sigh..

Resting his cheek against her hair, he reached one hand to grab something behind him, accidentally knocking over one of the mugs, but he didn’t even flinch when the cold dregs dripped through his shirt.

“Marry me, Kathryn Janeway?” He whispered into her ear and put his hand back in hers, slipping the ring he’d palmed into her fingers.

Looking down into her face, he saw her smile, eyes still closed, chin turned up into the sun.

“Always, yes.” She proclaimed, eyes opening.

Putting the ring on, she pulled his hands into hers, holding them to her chest. 

For a while, they enjoyed just being together, staring into the sky and dozing comfortably. Kathryn’s hair curled under the influence of the warm plains wind, at the mercy of nature as they gave in to bliss. 

It started when she pulled his arms tighter around her and wriggled her backside against his groin. It awakened his need for her, something that had taken a constant presence in the back of his mind, rearing to the forefront whenever even the slightest stimuli from her aroused him. Sometimes he felt like even the sight of her elicited an embarrassing reaction in the school hallways.

In response, she lifted a leg backwards over his, and guided their joined hands to the newly revealed space, pressing his fingers into the loose material of her dress. He felt the warmth radiating from her and his hips bucked against her lower back.

Chakotay grasped the material at the hem of the skirt, lifting it to expose the length of her legs and her ass. In the same move, he dropped his hand to her hip, resting on the soft skin, deciding what he wanted to do with her underwear. She reached backwards, hand awkwardly groping for the fly of his pants, but the angle was too harsh. Instead, he pulled away from her, just long enough to unzip and move the material aside, allowing the fully engorged erection to spring into the space between them. Finally making a decision, he put both hands on the thin material at her hip and ripped the seam, freeing the leg that draped over him from the last barrier between them. The damp material rested heavily against the inside of her other thigh, leaving her fully exposed to his will.

Kathryn arched her neck, her face turning to him for a kiss as she pushed back against him. Using the hand trapped under her waist, Chakotay pushed her against him harder, tilting her pelvis so she angled against him. His other hand dug under the front hem of her dress to find her ready and wanting. His fingers pushed past the curls into her, testing and stretching, circling and thrusting until she whined for him. Her arm slipped under his, moving back to squeeze him, riling him until he tilted just so, to line up and fit them together. 

They found happiness in a gentle rocking, watching the tall grass wave in the wind, peeking the bright blue sky and the lazy, cottony clouds. He kept the pace steady, taking his time with long strokes, filling her fully with each return to her core until he met resistance, bumping the barrier of her cervix. 

Smiling softly, she closed her eyes tightly, reveling in the feel of every millimeter of slide, and the pull of her skin as he retreated. The warmth every time he returned snaked up into his belly. He pistoned, never breaking the seal between them, the moisture adding to the sensation as it sucked at her insides every time he moved. He rotated his hips until she gasped as he found the perfect angle, dragging against her front wall. He stopped thrusting, instead pushing the head of his penis against the supple knob as he glided in and circling his hips until she quaked. 

As she peaked, he picked up a more frantic pace, riding her hard and drawing out the pleasurable explosion until he joined her, just as she was coming down. With a roar that got lost in the open air around him, he gripped her hips hard, fingers digging into the pliant skin, while he lost his steady control shooting his load enthusiastically within her pulsing flesh.

 

Friday morning found them sleeping in entirely too late, but they weren’t hurried, as Chakotay’s family wasn’t set to arrive for another few hours.

He hadn’t been able to wipe the grin from his face since lunch, only yesterday, and the ensuing whirlwind of affection they shared. On the blanket. In the truck. On the dining table and two of the chairs. And the dining table again. Finally falling into bed and taking their time after a nap. Kathryn, barely released from restrictions, took advantage of her newfound freedom, making up for lost time quite efficiently and with energetic enthusiasm.

He rolled over to look at her, prostrate, naked across her half of the bed, tangled in the cool sheets. 

A few of the muscles in his hips and lower back twinged, unused to the recent exertion, and he wondered if he’d be able to walk properly in time to hide it from his mother. This was an inopportune time to realize one was not a teenager anymore and romping in the cramped cab of a truck and nearly breaking a dining set was not as forgiving as it used to be. 

Carefully, he lifted the sheet and slipped out of bed, wary of waking his fiancée. She only sighed and moved to expand her sprawling territory to the recently abandoned warmth, nestling into his vacant pillow.

Heading to the kitchen, he searched for the Tylenol and started the coffee. The freezer didn’t have any ice packs, but he could put some wet wash cloths in for later in case they needed them. 

Chakotay sat with a glass of water and the bottle of pills. It wasn’t until his skin contacted the cool wood, that he realized he was still bare save his socks, the evidence of the last few hours smeared on his skin. His smile widened until he deigned to look up and noticed the mess in the path of their arrival. Dirt tracked in on their shoes, keys across the floor, clothes scattered and small items upturned. He supposed it had been somewhat par for the course since they’d gotten the house to themselves and Kathryn had felt better. 

He shook his head and closed the bottle after he took two pills. 

Add in an engagement, a romantic date, and an entire afternoon to themselves, and well, you got the cyclonic intensity of his Kathryn at her most delightful. Thinking back to when he’d met her, he had seen the signs of the wild in her eyes, tempered by layers of decorum and focus. Boiling somewhere in her depths, drawing him in, was her fierce loyalty, hard-won, but mold-breaking and devoted to a fault. 

She had never gone “all-in” in her personal relationships, always holding back, scared of someone seeing her darkness and determination, but she’d finally let go with him, months ago, she’d confessed. And she never glanced back. She was only truly her real self when they were alone together and she felt completely safe and unharrowed by the worries of the world. The rest of the time, she let her duty encase her in titles and platitudes- Miss Janeway, ma’am, Kate, Katie, girlfriend, teacher, daughter. All of her names meant a different part of her; a role she played closer to the surface.   
_Kathryn_ rolled off his tongue in a way she’d never heard anyone say it, she’d admitted once. He and he alone could draw her soul out and when he did, when she revealed herself, his _Kathryn_ , like a gasp releasing a body from torment and fear, it was a beauty, immaculate and untamed that he wasn’t sure existed outside of dreams. He’d almost stopped breathing the first time he’d experienced it, and since he’d embraced it without resistance. 

Checking on Kathryn to find her still numb to the world and sunk deep in all the linens, he slipped on a pair of shorts and set about tidying the mess. Her lack of restraint still caused shyness when she encountered the evidence, waking up in the morning, some of her layers of self falling back over _Kathryn_. It was endearing to see how dynamically she shifted. The multitude of sides to her fascinated him. 

When he heard her moving around in the twilight of sleep, Chakotay returned to bed so he could be there when she woke up. He kissed her awake, dusting her eyes and cheeks with dry lips. She turned her face towards the stimulation as she sought out the sensations, like sunny warmth. 

“How late is it?” She grated out, her voice still heavy with the numbness of sleep.

“Still early.” He shivered as her hands, hot with sleep, brushed over his skin under the sheet searching for his.

“Coffee?” She asked hopefully, making him laugh.

“Ready and waiting.” 

 

Two hours later they were showered, dressed, and getting the ingredients ready for lunch so they could have something ready without too much fuss when his family arrived. Kathryn was positively glowing with happiness, and he was still having trouble not smiling constantly. The house was spotless as it had been before they came in, and the windows were all open, letting the warm air circulate through the rooms, leaving the scent of wheat, milo, and alfalfa hovering in the air.

They heard a vehicle pull up into his drive and doors closed as the passengers got out. Chakotay and Kathryn went out to the porch to greet his family. Elenia ran up to her cousin and hugged him tightly.

“Chakotay, it’s so good to see you!” She said loudly.

Pulling away, the young woman turned to Kathryn and embraced her as well.

“And you too, Kathryn! You look well!” She gushed, looking Kathryn over for any evidence of her injuries. 

Kathryn smiled and nodded. Even though she’d been walking a bit stiffly this morning, she felt better than she had in quite a while.

“You look like you’re doing even better! Congratulations on graduation.” She offered.

Chakotay hurried forward to get the bags his mother carried from the car, kissing her lovingly on the cheek. Kio joined them and they came up the drive, joining Kathryn and Elenia in the shade of the awning. 

Putting the bags down, Chakotay stepped beside Kathryn, his arm settling across her shoulders. 

“Mom, this is my fiancée, Kathryn,” he gestured between the two, “Kathryn, this is Sakina.”

“’Mom’ is fine.” She wrapped her arms around Kathryn briefly, smiling at the mention of the engagement.

“Kathryn, this is Kiopak.” Chakotay introduced his brother. 

Kathryn held her hand out to the tall man, only to receive another enthusiastic embrace from him.

“She knows, sibiil, if you’ve told her nearly as much about us as you’ve told us about her.” His mother commented.

“She’s already family!” Kio encouraged him. 

They all went inside for lunch. Chakotay showed his mother and cousin to the spare room where they could change out of their travel clothes and take a nap. Kathryn, Kiopak, and Chakotay went out to the back porch with iced-tea to catch up. Mollie found a new friend in Kio while he told Chakotay about life since taking over the family business. 

Chakotay looked over to Kathryn to find her glimmering eyes full of love, all of the worry about meeting his family and being accepted dropping away.

This moment, the culmination of all the smaller moments rooted in decisions over the last year, made his spirit the fullest it had ever been. All the single minutes and days, only mere moments in a lifetime, brought him here to his purpose- his real self.


	20. Chapter 20

Today, it seemed, he couldn’t keep his hands off her. 

His fingertips exploded with an unbearable tingling whenever she was within five feet of him. Nothing was really different about today. No. Gretchen was the same. The shop hadn’t changed. It was a normal weekend morning helping at the shop that led into a productive afternoon. 

What was different?

Kathryn.

Chakotay eyed her like a predator, tracking her as she walked into the back room, untying her apron as she went. He upturned the last clean coffee mug on the shelf, then headed to drop the tub back in the dish pit where Benny would fill it with the next batch of clean dishware. Divesting himself of his own apron, he grabbed his keys and wallet from the office. 

When he peeked his head out the back door he didn’t see Kathryn. Usually they met behind Reverie before they went home. His gaze swept across the alley again to find it disappointingly empty. Back in the shop he checked the bathroom and front of house one more time, which was devoid of Kathryn. Puzzled, he considered where else she might be. She wouldn’t have walked home alone. 

Of course! She’d mentioned she was going to do the order today. She wouldn’t be able to put it in tomorrow. It was the first day of school and they probably wouldn’t make it in. 

Only a matter of days had passed since they’d celebrated knowing each other for a year. 

He smiled to himself at some of the memories he’d filed away of the past year, from their turbulent beginnings, to the journey they took falling in love and overcoming obstacles and sadness. 

He checked the last place she might be- the cellar where the dried goods were kept. He descended the stairs, the wood creaking under his heavy shoes. Ducking beneath a beam at the bottom of the stairs (he’d hit that at least a dozen times and now avoided the room in general), he spotted her pressing a piece of paper to the wall as she ticked boxes on the form to order more of any goods they needed. She scanned the shelves carefully, murmuring to herself.

Before he knew what he was doing, Chakotay had Kathryn in his arms and pinned to the wall she’d been using to write on. The items in her hands bounced off the hard floor as she reached up to sink her hands into his hair, cradling him to her as he ravished her exposed throat. He finally gave into the urges he’d been fighting all morning. 

His hands weren’t expansive enough to touch everything he wanted to sear with his fingertips at the same time. Her clothes wouldn’t cooperate as they should, so he settled for pressing into her, muffling her sighs of contentment. 

She bit into his lower lip when he brought his mouth to hers, and just as she released a hitching sigh and shuddered into him, he heard the creak of the stairs and a feminine throat clearing loudly.

“I want grand kids, young man, but you best not make them in here.” Gretchen looked at them pointedly, smiling.

“Don’t worry, Mom. You don’t need to worry about that.” Kathryn laughed, smirking and heading upstairs after righting herself. Leaving the completed order form in her mother’s hands.

Scaling the stairs to catch up after her, he awkwardly excused himself from Gretchen’s presence, Chakotay caught up with Kathryn out in the alley.

“What do you mean by that?” He breathed heavily. 

“Oh? But we can’t make a baby when there’s already one…” She seemed a smidge distracted as she told him the news.

She grunted, displeased when he pinned her to him in a bear hug.

“I can’t breathe Chakotay! Let me go!” She struggled half-heartedly until he pulled back, maintaining a light embrace.

“I know we weren’t trying…”

“We haven’t exactly been careful this summer…remember the lake or the field, or the picnic, or…?”

“I know. But, I’m overjoyed. Wait, how do you feel about it?” He interrupted her tangent.

“I think it’s wonderful. I was worried at first about telling you, and I was going to tell you tonight…”

“Does Gretchen know?”

“No. Just you.” She shook her head and looked up, beaming at him.

“I knew something was different about you. You decided to tell me this morning, didn’t you? It’s why you’ve been a bit off the last week, huh? Oh, and Mollie’s been just at your heels so much!” The dots all connected, firing off the neurons of realization.

He was so excited, he couldn’t get his voice to stop battering her with senseless questions. 

Channeling some of that shocked and elated energy, he pulled her tight to him again and swung her off her feet in at wide circle.

“This is amazing!” He put her back on the ground.

It all just kept getting better. In the last year, he’d completely changed his life. Before he didn’t believe in so-called happy endings with wealth, notoriety, material attachments, and white-picket fences. Maybe that stereotypical dream wasn’t his dream. That’s where he’d gone wrong before coming here. He’d sold his soul and his peace to latch on to the expectations success dictated in the mainstream world. What he had here was even better by a magnitude of…we he didn’t quite know, but he was quite sure he was the luckiest man in this galaxy and perhaps the next as well. 

 

Madeline Walker was born three weeks early, but perfect in every way, if a bit small. Her eyes matched her birthstone, clear and the color of the sea, an aquamarine mist he could spend hours drowning in. Her tiny fingers grasped at everything around her, head swiveling with purpose and mouth opening and closing tiredly. She fought sleep constantly, content instead to stare at the faces above her, the blurry vision of noses and mouths accompanied by comforting coos and sweet scents. 

“Welcome to the world little one.” He sighed when she finally settled to sleep in her parents’ arms.

He added the picture of his first daughter, the smell of her belly, the feel of her delicate ears and toes, and the taste of her skin when he kissed her palms to his mental files, brimming with everything he’d ever wanted.


End file.
